Teen Doc
by Flaming Trails
Summary: NonTrilogy Story: While helping Doc test some new inventions for the DeLorean, Marty is temporarily stranded in 1938. A chance encounter leads to him learning a lot about his best friend. AN: I split Chapter 3 into Chapter 3 and 4
1. Chapter 1

Teen Doc

By Flaming Trails

A BTTF: NonTrilogy Story

Disclaimer: I don't own BTTF. If I did -- well, currently, I'm thinking of miniseries based on Doc's life before BTTF. (Or, the film version of RevisonDoc.)

Chapter 1

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

2:38 P.M.

"So take me away, I don't mind, but you better promise me I'll be back in time!"

Marty couldn't help but smirk as he listened to the end of the song. His favorite band, Huey Lewis and the News, had released the single shortly before his own time-travel adventures, and he was always amused by the parallels to his own trip to 1955. _It's like they released the song just for me._

He pulled up to Doc's house just as the last new notes faded. Humming the tune to himself, he got out, locked his truck up, and knocked on the front door. "Yo, Doc? I'm here. Ready to start working on the inventions?"

The door swung open to reveal a tired-looking but grinning Doc. "Actually, Marty, I'm ready to test them. I just finished them up last night."

"Hey, great!" Marty grinned, coming in. "I mean, we've been working on them for a while now."

"I know. However, these are extremely important additions to the DeLorean, so I had to make sure that they were made to my exact specifications."

"Yeah, although I still don't really understand _why_ we had to build them. You never really explained their purpose."

"An oversight on my part, which I fully intend to rectify." Doc motioned for Marty to follow him. "Come into the garage and I'll explain everything."

As they walked into the garage, Marty frowned. "Hey, Doc, I gotta say, you look pretty beat. Late night last night?"

"Inspiration knows no hour, Marty. I was up all night finishing up our inventions."

Marty smiled a little at Doc's "our," but lapsed right back into concern. "Is it safe for you to pull an all-nighter, Doc? What if you messed up something in the car?"

Doc gave him an encouraging look. "This isn't the first all-nighter I've done, Marty, and it certainly won't be the last. I caught a quick nap this morning, and I made sure to double-check all my work. Nothing's wrong with the car. Trust me."

"I always have, Doc."

Doc smiled. "Although, I _will_ admit to needing more sleep if your coat really _isn't_ too big for you."

Marty blushed. "Yeah, well, my old one has all these rips in it, so Mom's got to sew it back up, and this was the first one she yanked out of her closet this morning. It was my Grandpa Arthur's -- Dad wears it sometimes when it's cold." He jokingly did a twirl. "You like?"

"I do, actually. Cut down to size, that would make a very nice coat on you." Doc opened the door to the garage and led Marty up to the DeLorean. "Now, first things first," he said, going into lecture mode. "If we should ever find the need to leave the car in an unfamiliar place, even in our current temporal period, we have to be certain that no one will steal it. To prevent that situation, I've installed a thumblock system on the car."

"A _what_ system?"

"Thumblock system. Circa 2016," Doc explained. "Future technology is a wonderful thing." He pointed to the door. Next to the handle, where the lock should have been, was a smooth disk of metal, with two lights. "Most locking devices in the future work on fingerprint activation. By installing thumblocks in place of the ordinary door locks, I've theoretically assured that no one except for myself can get into the DeLorean. Watch." Doc pressed his left thumb firmly against the metal plate. The light on the side blinked green, and the door opened with a, "Welcome, Dr. Brown."

Marty nodded, impressed. "That's really cool, Doc. Kinda reminds me of KITT."

Doc smirked. "Glad you approve. The device comes with a siren in case someone else tries that trick. However, if someone _does_ manage to bypass the door locks, I've installed a similar system onto the time circuit controls. That way a car jacker won't be able to travel through time at least." He winked at Marty. "Or that a nervous kid won't accidentally bump them on while driving."

"Hey, I wasn't the one who decided to put that handle right between the seats. _And_ I was being chased by Libyan terrorists."

"Fair enough," Doc nodded. "That's actually part of the reason for these new inventions. After your trip to 1955, and that situation with the Clock Tower and learning 'what could have been' with us, it occurred to me that, in my initial excitement over my invention working, I had overlooked a number of mishaps that could befall a potential time traveler. Such as, getting stranded in a foreign time. I know your own trip worked out for the best, but I doubt that you want to repeat the experience."

Marty nodded. "When I time travel, I like to have a way to get back home _fast_."

"Exactly. These inventions will ensure that we will never become lost in time."

"Or anybody else will, either," Marty added, referring back to the locks. He suddenly frowned. "Hey, wait a minute Doc. If somebody gets past the thumblocks on the outside, doesn't that mean they can probably get past the one on the time circuits too?"

"It's likely," Doc said. "The system isn't foolproof. But if our thief does manage to bypass both sets of locks, that's when _this_ device comes in." Doc held up his left wrist, revealing a calculator watch.

Marty frowned at it. "My old calculator watch?"

"This is no ordinary watch, Marty. I've -- well, _we've_ modified it into a small remote control for the DeLorean. The readout always displays the current temporal signature of the DeLorean -- where exactly it is in the space-time continuum. If the time should change and I know neither of us is in control of the time machine, I'll know there's a problem and will be able to summon the DeLorean back remotely."

Marty was suitably impressed. "This is heavy-duty, Doc. How does it work?"

"You input different addition and subtraction combinations to create certain effects. For example, four plus seven minus three would be go straight for a mile, turn left and start hovering." Doc pulled a small notepad out of his pocket and showed Marty almost 20 pages of different codes. "For obvious reasons, I didn't take advantage of multiplication and division codes."

"Yeah, I can see. Uh -- you're not expecting me to memorize that, are you?"

"Of course not! I don't think even _I_ would be able to memorize it all."

"Heh, good. What else?"

"Do you remember those walkie-talkies I bought?"

"Sure."

Doc opened up the glove compartment, his grin getting bigger. "Well, besides extending their range tremendously, they now are capable of functioning even if one unit is in a different temporal period. It was a lot of complicated electrical work, but I finally figured out how to get it to work last night. One will always be locked in the DeLorean's glove compartment, the other in the drawer of my desk. If something should go wrong while one of us is time traveling, he can contact the other for help."

"But we've only got the one time machine," Marty pointed out.

"True, but the other party can at least offer some advice. And it's always comforting to hear a familiar voice in an unfamiliar place."

Marty had to agree with that. He peered inside the car, looking for more new additions. "Seriously, Doc, this is all pretty heavy-duty stuff. Definitely worth the wait."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Marty. I was hoping that you would assist me while I ran the field tests with them. Are you willing to time travel with me?"

"Definitely," Marty grinned. "I've kinda been itching to take another time trip -- a _real_ one, not a panic-induced accidental one. Where are we going?"

"_When_ are we going, you mean," Doc corrected. "I'm not sure yet. Is there any particular time period you would like to see?"

"2015?" Marty asked hopefully.

Doc pondered that for a moment. "I'm not so sure I want to visit the future to perform a field test. For one thing, I get the feeling you'd be too distracted to help me much." Marty blushed. "And there's also the issue of your future self and your future son. . . ."

"What do they have to do with anything?" Marty asked, puzzled. "I mean, we're going to be there for a few minutes max, right? To test the machines?"

Now it was Doc's turn to blush. "Well, I suppose I should tell you now, rather than later. In order for me to successfully test the time talkies, I'd have to leave one of us in our chosen time period -- just for a hour or so," he hastened to add.

Marty frowned, lifting an eyebrow. "So you're going to drop me off in a strange time and have me wander around for a while?"

"It doesn't have to be you, Marty. You can take the DeLorean back and I'll stay in our chosen era. I expected you might not be keen on the idea after your experience in 1955. I just thought I would give you the choice."

Marty thought about that, leaning up against the DeLorean. The idea of being alone, even for a little while, in the past or future both intrigued and terrified him. _He's right, my accidental trip to 1955 gave me some willies. . . . But with the time talkie, I'll be able to talk to Doc whenever I need to. . . . My relatives won't be a problem, I know enough to stay away from them now. Still, I might end up changing history again in the past -- and who knows what might happen to me in the future? I mean, I'd love to check out 2015, but not on my own! Especially if my son really does look like my clone, and I get shanghaied by a bunch of people I don't even know. But if the DeLorean starts acting up again? I don't know that much about how cars work, and I certainly can't show the time machine to Spydo!_

"Earth to Marty! Terrestrial sphere to Marty!"

Marty snapped out of his trance. "Sorry, Doc. Weighing the pros and cons."

"Come to a decision yet?"

Marty nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I'll be your guinea pig, Doc. If anything goes wrong with the DeLorean, I want _you_ to be the one with the car."

"I told you, Marty, I've double-checked all of my work."

"I know, but shit happens. The car itself might decide to break down or something. You never know."

"That's true," Doc admitted with a frown. "DeLoreans have gained a notorious reputation as being unreliable. I certainly wouldn't want to stick you with a problem you couldn't fix."

"That's what I thought. And now I think I see why you don't want to take me to the future for this. It would probably rock, but I'd freak if I was there all alone." He frowned for a moment, then brightened. "What's a time period _you've_ always wanted to visit, Doc?"

"The Old West," Doc admitted. "That's an era you don't visit lightly, though. I'm definitely not leaving you there to get shot or something." Marty rapidly nodded his agreement. "This is more complicated than I thought it would be. Perhaps we had better postpone the test run for a few days. . . ."

"Why don't we just pick some time at random?" Marty suggested, unwilling to give up on his potential adventure just yet.

"I suppose we could. Although I'd prefer to plan ahead. . . ."

"Doc, it's a field test! How much planning do we need?"

"Space-time continuum, Marty! I don't want to drop in on any historically important dates!"

"Well, we're studying the 1930's in school," Marty said, frustrated. "Late 30's, actually. Why don't we go to 1938 or something?"

Doc lifted an eyebrow. "Actually, that doesn't sound too bad," he said. "The end of the Great Depression, and just before World War II. A fairly quiet period in history." He grinned. "1938 it is. Any particular date in mind?"

"I dunno. September 2nd."

For a moment, Doc paled. Then it passed, and he shrugged. "Why not. September 2nd, 1938. We'll arrive mid-afternoon, over one of the larger farms."

Marty frowned. He hadn't liked the look on Doc's face when he had mentioned the date. "Something wrong with that day, Doc?"

"No, not really. Nothing of cosmic significance, anyway. I -- I just had a _really_ bad day on that particular date."

"Oh." Marty had a sudden thought. "Holy shit, you'd be my age back then!"

Doc laughed. "Is it that hard for you to believe that I was once a teenager?"

"Well -- yeah. Before 1955, I never thought about what my parents might have been like when they were 17. And you almost _never_ talk about your childhood. What were you like at 17?"

"I really haven't changed that much over the years, actually. I was rather bookish as a teenager. Most of the time you could find me in the garage, either reading Jules Verne or working on an invention. I didn't have very many friends -- I was just getting ready to graduate college, so most of the kids in my classes were older than I was, and weren't interested in associating themselves with me. In fact, I think my only two real friends were my sister Emily and our friend Holly." Doc chuckled. "I had some of the best times of my life with them. . . ."

"Who's Holly?" Marty asked, intrigued. "Some old crush of yours?"

"No, not a crush. Great Scott, I never told you about Holly Handlen?"

"Well, not really. I mean, you've mentioned her a couple of times -- I know she's an old friend of yours that lives in Oregon -- but, like I said, since you talk so little about what you were like when you were a kid. . . ." Marty shrugged.

"A grievous error on my part. I suppose since she's so familiar to me, I don't think that other people might not know about her. No matter. Holly is Holly Danielle Handlen -- well, Thurston now, she's married. My best friend since I was 13." Doc smiled. "She was definitely a character. Holly loved practical jokes and was always trying to make us laugh. And she claimed to be a practicing witch as well -- which led to a number of interesting arguments between her and myself."

Marty lifted an eyebrow. "A _witch_?"

"Yes, a witch. Only Emily and myself knew the full details of course -- Holly had the sense not to really advertise it to the school. She was ostracized enough for her all-black clothing and somewhat wicked sense of humor. But when it was just us -- the stories she told. . . . Oh, she was great. Here, let me show you." Doc walked back into his home and searched through his bookshelf for a few moments, finally pulling out an ancient-looking photo album. "I wish we had had color film back then," he said wistfully, plopping the album on a nearby table and flipping it open. "Black and white doesn't do her -- or my sister -- justice."

Marty looked at the photos he was presented with. The first one featured a young man with long curly hair -- obviously a much-younger Doc -- sandwiched in between two girls. The girl to his left had dark hair that hung to her shoulders and dark eyes like Doc, wearing what looked like a light summer dress. The girl to his right --

Marty did a double take. The girl to Doc's right looked like a modern Goth, of all things. Thick black hair hung past her shoulders, spilling onto a black dress. Around her neck was a chain with a pentagram on it. She was smirking at the camera, arms folded. "Uh -- I assume the more normal-looking one is Emily."

Doc snorted. "You assume correctly. I told you Holly was a character. Don't be fooled by her looks -- she had a wonderfully bubbly personality. She often liked to greet me at high velocity." Doc pointed to another photo that showed what looked like the young Doc being tackled by a black blur. "And she was always willing to lend a shoulder to cry on. Great Scott, I miss her. She and her husband John moved to Oregon in 1943, so I don't see her much anymore. We still exchange regular letters, though."

"You talk about me?" Marty asked, giggling at a pic of young Doc being viciously tickled by Holly and Emily.

"Of course. I'd love it if you two could meet. I know you'd like each other."

"Yeah, I think so too." Marty closed the photo album and got up. "So, are we gonna do this?"

"Let's go," Doc nodded, putting the album back on the shelf. The pair walked back into the garage and got into the DeLorean. Doc pressed his thumb against the plate on top of the activation handle, then switched the time circuits on. With lightning speed, he entered the date:

SEPTEMBER 2ND, 1938, 2:45 P.M.

"I remember the day as being gloomy, so that should provide us with some cover," Doc commented, putting the car in gear and pulling into his driveway.

"Good. Last thing we need is another generation of Peabodys seeing it." Marty shuddered as he remembered his experiences with the farmer family.

It was the usual busy day at Burger King, thus preventing them from lifting off right away. Undaunted, Doc took the streets and drove around until he found a nice quiet spot on the road to the lake. Checking carefully for witnesses, he activated the hover conversion and promptly gunned the accelerator. The DeLorean shrieked into the sky, a silver blur --

And with a loud sonic boom, it was no more.


	2. Chance Meetings

Chapter 2

Friday, September 2nd, 1938

Hill Valley

2:45 P.M.

To both Doc and Marty's shock, the sky was a bright, clear blue when they arrived in the past -- no sign of clouds at all. "Doc, you said it was overcast!" Marty said, almost accusingly.

"I thought it was! Perhaps the passage of time has altered my memories," Doc mused. "Well, at least we're over open grassland and not a populated area." He frowned at the farms below. "Although you could never really tell where the Okies had set up camp. . . ."

"Hill Valley had Okies?"

"I think every town in California had a few at one point or another. They went wherever there was work. I generally tried to steer clear of them -- not out of any ill feeling toward them, but because I was afraid they'd harbor ill feelings toward _me_. The Von Brauns were one of the richest families in Hill Valley."

"Well, yeah, I knew you guys were rich. . . ."

"Loaded," Doc said, rolling his eyes a bit. "When I told you that I spent my entire family fortune on developing time travel, I was only referring to my share -- one third of the monies and the value of the house."

Marty lifted an eyebrow. "You only got one third? I thought the sons got more back then -- or now, I guess."

Doc shrugged. "Emily was the favored child in our family," he said vaguely. "I can only imagine the sibling jealousy problems that might have resulted if I were less fond of her."

"Doc, I have two siblings. You can't tell me you weren't _ever _jealous of her."

Doc scowled at nothing in particular. "Well, it wasn't really her so much as my mother and father," he said bitterly. "Some days it felt like I was invisible to them. And I never could please my father -- our tastes were far too different."

"I've had days like that," Marty said sympathetically. "It can really suck being the youngest, huh?"

"It can. At least Emily was never spoiled." Doc's expression softened again. "I knew I could always count on her to make sure my voice was heard." Apparently satisfied the area was deserted, Doc brought the DeLorean down. "But enough of this trip down memory lane. Ready for our test run?"

"Ready, Doc."

"Good. Get out of the car and I'll demonstrate the control watch."

Marty eagerly hopped out of the DeLorean. Doc followed and positioned himself in front of the car. He pressed the enter button on the watch, and the engine came to life with a low growl. Doc punched in "6+1-5+3" and waited. The DeLorean obediently drove up to him, turned left, and reversed two feet. Marty applauded politely while Doc beamed. "It appears Field Test One is successful. Now to test the thumblocks." He stepped back. "Go ahead and try and get into the car, Marty."

"Okay." Marty frowned at the DeLorean. He tried the door handle, but as he had suspected, the doors were locked tight. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he pressed his thumb to the plate.

There was a brief tingling sensation as his thumbprint was scanned. Then, suddenly, a red light flashed, and a siren blared. Marty jumped backward as a hard voice snapped, "ACCESS DENIED. MOVE AWAY FROM THE VEHICLE." "Jesus!" Marty gasped. "I don't think you'll ever have to worry about somebody breaking in, Doc. That siren nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry. At least I know it works exactly as it's supposed to." Doc pressed his own thumb to the lock, deactivating the alarm and opening the door. "Prepare for new user," he said.

The car made a few funny beeping noises. "Ready to receive," it finally announced. "New user, please present your thumb for scanning."

"Go ahead," Doc said, stepping back.

Hesitantly, Marty pressed his thumb against the plate again. The DeLorean rescanned it and made a "boop" sound. "Print successfully added to database of accepted users. Please state the identity of the new user for future identification."

Marty simply gawked at it. Doc nudged him. "Just tell it your name."

"Marty," Marty told the car, feeling a little stupid.

The light on the plate flashed green. "Welcome, Marty," the car said warmly as the door unlocked.

Doc laid a hand on Marty's shoulder, looking very stern. "Now, Marty, I've just made the assumption that you're responsible enough to use this thing alone. That means no stealing it for frivolous purposes or the like. Just follow this rule if you ever use the DeLorean alone -- if you wouldn't do it if I was there, don't do it at all. I hope I can trust you."

"I won't let you down, Doc," Marty promised. "There's no way in hell I'd ever want to repeat what happened with my parents." He smirked a little. "Besides, am I really ever going to be using this thing alone?"

Doc grinned and patted Marty's shoulder. "Good point. But in case the situation comes up, I wanted to make sure I could count on you. Ready for the final part of our field test?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Doc."

"Okay then. I'll drop you off a little closer to town and give you your instructions. Hop in." Doc reactivated the hover conversion, and they set off.

"How big is Hill Valley nowadays?" Marty asked curiously as they approached the outskirts of town.

"I believe at a stable population of 10,000," Doc said. "Hill Valley doesn't experience any major population booms until the 50s and 60s." He landed and rummaged around in the back of the car. "Now, everything is probably going to look ancient to you, but try not to stare too much. Keep all social interactions to a minimum. When you get into town, head immediately for the clothing store I took you to in 1955 -- do you remember it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Buy some clothes and change at the first available opportunity. Until then, keep that coat tight around you so you don't attract too much attention." Doc pulled a suitcase from the back and set it on his lap. "Let me give you some money."

Marty's jaw dropped open as Doc snapped open the suitcase. Instead of the traditional clothes, the suitcase was filled with all different types of cash, separated into little pouches. Each pouch was labeled with a different year. "Holy shit, Doc, where did you get all of that money!"

"Future antique stores," Doc said with a grin. "I first sold off some old items that I had no use for anymore, then used the money I got from that to buy about 1,000 dollars for each time period in here. I have to be prepared for all monetary possibilities if I want to be a responsible time traveler." Doc pulled a small stack of bills from a pouch labeled "1935." "There, that should be enough."

"Positive, Doc?"

"Marty, it's the end of the Great Depression. That amount of money might qualify you as fairly well-off. At any rate, it'll definitely be enough for a decent shirt and some pants."

Marty nodded and took the money. "Anything else I should know?"

"Well, I would say don't look up your relatives, but I think you already know that very well." Marty smirked. "I think we're set here." Doc gave Marty a firm handshake. "Good luck, Marty. I'll see you in--" he consulted his watch "-- two hours?"

"You got it." Marty grabbed his time talkie and got out of the car. Doc gave him a final wave, then flew off into the wild blue yonder. Moments later, Marty heard a loud sonic boom, signaling Doc's departure back into 1986. _Well, let's see what the space-time continuum has in store for me this time,_ he thought, putting his money and the time talkies in his coat pockets. Pulling his coat close around him, he headed for town.

Friday, September 2nd

3:17 P.M.

"Marty, do you copy? Over."

Marty grinned and ducked into the shadow of a corner shop. "Read you loud and clear, Doc. For a pair of cheap walkie-talkies, these things have great reception."

"I'll admit to tampering with them a bit. How are things looking out there so far?"

"Sorta like I just stepped into my history book." Marty watched a couple walk down the street, holding hands and grinning at each other. Marty smiled. "Though from the looks of it, some things never change."

"Any problems with staying discreet?"

"Nope. People are just ignoring me."

"Ah, good. So, what do you think of 1938?"

"It's familiar, but it's -- not, if that makes any sense. I mean, I recognize the place from 1985 -- or, really, from 1955 -- but it's still so different. The clock still works, the World War II memorial is missing, a bunch of the stores look way different, and some aren't even there yet." Marty watched a Model T putt along the road. "This is really heavy stuff, Doc."

"I would think so, to someone who hadn't lived through it. Did you have any problems securing appropriate clothes?"

"Nope. The guy you sent me to was great. Didn't ask a single question." Marty idly smoothed a wrinkle out of his trousers. "Although I can't say I like the color scheme all that much."

"If you wanted colorful clothes, you should have suggested that I drop you off in the 60s. I'm glad to hear things are going well for you. I'll contact you again in about 15 minutes."

"I'll be waiting, Doc. Over and out." Marty switched off his set and casually wandered back into the daylight. Nobody gave him a second glance. _Never could have gotten away with that in 1955!_ he thought, remembering all the stunned looks he had gotten from the townspeople on his first trip through time. _Then again, I wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion. I wonder how these people would have reacted to--_

"Oh, don't be silly, Arthur!"

Marty jumped, startled. That voice was awfully familiar. . . . He quickly turned around. Walking down the street was a fairly young couple -- Marty judged them to be in their late 20s or early 30s. They were pushing along a very antique baby stroller, and apparently having some sort of argument. With another start, Marty recognized them as his grandparents Sylvia and Arthur McFly. "Of _course_ Georgie likes you, Arthur!" Sylvia continued. "He _adores_ you! You're his father!"

"I dunno, Sylvia," Arthur said, rubbing his mustache nervously. "He doesn't look at me the same way he looks at you. You're his favorite, I know it."

"He's not supposed to! You're making a big fuss over nothing! Look at him -- he even looks like you! He loves you, Arthur. You'll see."

"I'm trying to believe you, Sylvia. Honestly. It's just -- I couldn't take that kind of a rejection."

Marty shook his head sadly. The minute he had met his Grandpa Arthur in the Twin Pines reality, he had suddenly understood why his father was such a wimp. Arthur and the old nerdy George were like peas in a pod, terrified of everything. Marty hadn't really gotten to know him any better in 1955, but he had overheard a conversation between Arthur and George about George attending college. Arthur had basically told George there was no point in even trying, disguising his rationale for failure as a homespun philosophy of not competing. It had made Marty almost sick to hear his father's plans shot down like that. And now here Arthur was, terrified that his own child didn't like him. _What is it about McFlys that makes them scared of everything? I must be from some recessive gene. A _really _recessive gene._

As they continued walking and arguing, Marty realized that they were going to pass right by him. A nervous thrill went up his spine -- one, because he didn't particularly care to meet his relatives in the past again and maybe cause another mess, and two, because Arthur happened to be wearing the exact same coat Marty had on. Marty was certain they would notice -- and if non-confrontational Arthur didn't mention it, chatty Grandma Sylvia was sure to. Having her possibly realize it was the exact same jacket and start asking embarrassing questions was more trouble than Marty wanted to deal with at the moment. He had to escape somehow before they noticed him.

Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Marty quickly cut across the town square and ducked into the shadows surrounding the Clock Tower. _Whew, that was a close one!_ Marty watched as Sylvia sat down on a bench and began playing with baby George. Arthur watched nervously, as if afraid to interrupt. _Hey, Dad makes a pretty cute baby. Too bad he grows up to be such a wimp._

He sighed and adjusted his coat. _Well, I'd better not stick around here. With my luck, either Mom's family or Biff's will show up next. I don't want to alter my family history any more than I have. Two sets of memories are more than enough. Where to go, though. . . ._

He snapped his fingers. _I know! John F. Kennedy Drive! Or, rather, Riverside Drive. I should be safe there, as long as I stay well away from Doc's mansion. Don't want to get in trouble._ Grinning, Marty began walking.

Friday, September 2nd

3:30 P.M.

Riverside Drive looked _very_ different, both from a 1985 viewpoint and a 1955 one. The road was paved differently, there was no sign of any of the small businesses Marty had seen dotting the street in 1955, and there was a lot more open space between houses.

And what houses they were! Marty openly goggled at the sheer size of most of them. Most had fancy doors, windows, and paint jobs, and practically all of them sported beautiful gardens. Everything about them screamed money. "Wow," he muttered. "I bet this is what Newport, Rhode Island looks like."

The walkie-talkie in his pocket crackled to life. "Come in, Marty. What's the report?"

Marty chose a tree at random and ducked behind it. "I'm here, Doc. I spotted Grandma and Grandpa McFly -- didn't talk to them, though. Arthur's as wimpy as he always was. He was afraid George -- at six months -- didn't like him."

Doc chuckled softly. "I see. It makes me wonder if Arthur learned that behavior from his own father."

"I don't know. I'll have to ask about great-grandpa William when I get back. Anyway, I skedaddled before they could notice me."

"Good idea. Where are you now?"

"Riverside Drive. Relax, Doc, I'm on the opposite end from your house," Marty promptly reassured the scientist, sensing his protest. "I just wanted a look around. Boy, there's a lot of mansions here in 1938!"

"Well, Riverside Drive and the surrounding areas did make up the rich neighborhood," Doc said. Marty could practically hear him blush.

"I'll say. This place looks really ritzy. But I don't remember there being this many fancy houses in 1955. What happened to them?"

"To be honest, a lot of the families in this time period are using their mansions as facades. The Depression ruined a lot of rich families -- mine was one of the few who kept their fortunes. The rest were trying to keep up a lifestyle they could no longer afford. In the 1940s, most gave up and sold their fancy homes, either moving or taking advantage of the newer, smaller dwellings being built."

"I see. Yeah, I was thinking about the Great Depression and all--"

"Hey! Kid! What are you doing here?"

Startled, Marty spun to see a large, rough-looking man in overalls glaring at him. He was holding a pair of hedge clippers in one hand -- apparently he was the gardener for the particular home Marty had chosen. "This is private property! Get off!"

"Sorry!" Marty yelled back, feeling rather intimidated. He normally wasn't one to be cowed by size, but this guy was a real ox. "I'll go!"

"Well, you're not going fast enough!" The ox suddenly grabbed a rifle from somewhere Marty couldn't see. "Damned Okies!"

Marty's chest tightened in fear. Ever since he had seen his best friend ruthlessly gunned down by Libyan terrorists, he had been nervous around anything to do with firearms. Especially ones that were pointed at him. "Doc, I gotta go! I'll call you later!"

Doc's worried "Mar--" was cut off in the middle as Marty switched off his set and made a run for it. The ox gardener followed, waving his gun and yelling. "That's right, get out of here you riff-raff! We don't want the likes of you around here! Goddamned Okies, trying to rob the lot of us blind! Go! Get out!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" Marty yelled back, staring over his shoulder at the man. The gap between them wasn't lessening an inch. Marty didn't know if he could outrun this guy -- but he was damn willing to give it a try! He was so focused on what was behind him that he didn't notice the other boy racing toward him -- until it was too late.

WHAM!


	3. Meet The Gang

Chapter 3

Friday, September 2nd

3:32 P.M.

Marty blinked a few times, letting the world right itself again. Visions of 1955 and pushing George out of the way of Grandpa Sam's car swam in his head. _Jesus. It seems like every time I time travel, I end up falling and hitting my head._

Well, at least this time he hadn't landed on hard concrete. He sat up slowly, rubbing his forehead. "Ouch. . . ."

"Great Scott! I'm so sorry," a shockingly familiar voice said. Marty's head snapped up to see another teenage boy -- just about his age, really, but about a foot taller -- hurriedly picking up a bunch of scattered books. "I wasn't looking where I was going," the teen added, looking up at Marty. "Are you all right?"

Marty couldn't respond for a moment. All he could do was stare at the teen's messy, curly blond hair. . .the wristwatches strapped to both wrists. . .the white shirt covered in various colorful stains. . .and those extremely familiar liquid chocolate brown eyes. "You're D-D-- you're D-Doc?"

"Doc" frowned. "Doc? I don't have a doctorate yet. Do you need a doctor?"

"Ah -- no. I--"

"Oh, look," a deep, smooth voice interrupted, "the all-mighty Emmett Brown tripped."

"Doc" -- Emmett -- sighed as he picked up the last of his books. "I'm only human, Henry," he said, getting back to his feet. "Your insistence on chasing me around led to me running into someone."

A trio of very muscular boys swaggered up, about as tall as Emmett and looking to be roughly the same age, perhaps a year or two older. The one in the lead -- Henry -- smirked at Marty, who was still goggling. "Who, that shrimp?"

_Shrimp?_ Marty felt his face heat as his temper rose. He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. _It's not worth it. Remember that future where you lost your temper and ended up in a dead-end job in a dead-end neighborhood. NOT WORTH IT._

"Yes, him," Emmett said."He was running in the opposite direction on the same pathway."

Henry looked at Marty curiously. "What were _you_ running from, shrimp?"

"Some guy was chasing me with a gun," Marty said, finally remembering to get up. "I guess I was trespassing on his property or something." He looked around nervously. The ox had vanished, apparently satisfied with his work. Marty began to breathe easier. "I wasn't looking where I was going either."

"Oh. Well, if I were you, I'd go home and wash up. You've got Brown germs all over you now." The trio laughed coldly.

Emmett sighed. "Is that the best you could come up with, Henry?"

"Hey, it's true. You're like the victim of some freakish disease." Henry abruptly shoved Emmett, causing him to stumble and nearly fall. Emmett looked annoyed, but took the blow. "All you ever do is sit in your garage doing who knows what. And blowing stuff up, of course."

"I'm still practicing," Emmett grumbled, hugging his books to his body. "Learning the ins and outs of chemistry is an on-going process. I'm just not taking to it as quickly as I did to physics and mechanics."

"Hah. Name one invention of yours that's worked," Henry challenged.

"How about the automatic blackboard wiper? My science teacher loved it."

Henry looked a bit put out. "Well, I guess even freaks have to get lucky sometimes." He turned back to Marty. "I suggest you keep on running, kid. This guy's unstable. Too smart for his own good too."

"I can't help my intelligence!"

"Whatever, Brown. Come on, guys." The trio swaggered away, one of the boys pausing to stomp on the grass for some reason.

Emmett sighed and looked back at Marty. "Well, now you know who I am," he said quietly. "Emmett Brown, local freak. I'll be on my way." He turned and began walking, head held low.

Marty felt a pang of sympathy for Emmett. Even when he was a teenager, he got nothing but crap. "Hey, wait a minute," he called on impulse, wanting to cheer the younger Doc up.

Emmett paused and looked back with a frown. "Yes?"

Marty realized he wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't talk to Emmett like he could to Doc, at any rate. "Uh -- you missed one," he finally said, noticing a book still on the ground. He picked it up, wiped it off, and handed it to Emmett. "Here."

Emmett blinked. "Thank you," he said, sounding stunned. "Most people wouldn't even -- Great Scott, it's my new Jules Verne book! I certainly can't leave this behind. If those other boys had found it, they'd have destroyed it on the spot, just to spite me. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"No problem. I'm glad they didn't see it then," Marty said, thinking of his own encounters with bullies. "I'm sorry for running into you like that. Guns just freak me out."

Emmett smiled a little. "It's understandable. We were both being chased. You don't need to apologize."

"Yeah, but I want to. Seems like you got enough crap from those other jerks," Marty smiled back. "I'm Mar-ty Jackson. Well, Michael Jackson really, but everybody calls me Marty."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jackson," Emmett said, shifting his books so he could shake Marty's hand. "You already know my name."

Marty smirked. "Marty, please. Do they always chase you like that?"

Emmett sighed and rolled his eyes. "Incessantly. It's a game to them. I'm just lucky they weren't in a violent mood today. Otherwise I'd be heading home with a few bruises."

Marty suddenly realized something. In all the excitement, he had somehow lost his time talkie. "Shit," he hissed, looking around. "Uh, D-Emmett--"_ Man, that feels weird! _"--did you happen to see this small black box thing anywhere? About yea big?" He attempted to demonstrate with his hands. "It's really important to me. I was carrying it when that guy with the gun was chasing me, but I guess it went flying or something when I smacked into you."

Emmett's small smile withered. "I did see something to that description. I didn't consider it important, though. Otherwise I would have said something."

"Said something? What happened to it?"

With an apologetic sigh, Emmett pointed to a spot a few paces off. "Remember how I said Henry and his gang like to destroy things?"

Marty's stomach lurched. He jogged over to the spot -- and groaned loudly. The set was there, all right.

Smashed to junk.

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

3:07 P.M.

"Marty! Marty, come in!"

No response. Not even static. Doc worriedly paced his garage, fondling the walkie-talkie. _Something's happened. Marty would _never_ turn off his walkie-talkie like this. Especially if he happened to be in trouble. And judging from what I heard during his last transmission, he was _definitely _in trouble! He sounded pretty damned scared before he signed off so abruptly. Great Scott, he might even be seriously hurt! Damn, damn damn! Time to terminate the test run and make sure that he's all right!_

Doc almost ran for the DeLorean and leapt in. "All right," he mused aloud as he started the engine. "Engine combusting. Time circuits functional -- and set. Mr. Fusion filled. Flux capacitor -- not fluxing?"

Baffled, Doc stared at the device. It actually was fluxing, but far too weakly for time travel. He tried flipping the on/off switch a few times. The fluxing weakened with each flip. _What the hell?_ Doc thought, scowling. _What in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton is wrong with this --_

_Oh no._

Doc suddenly remembered that, while installing the wiring for the Time Tracker watch, he had been forced to mess with the flux capacitor. It looked like something he had done had managed to short it somewhere. Those time trips couldn't have helped either. "Damn it," Doc moaned. "And in my sleep-addled state, I never noticed. I should have listened to you, Marty."

Friday, September 2nd, 1938

Hill Valley

3:34 P.M.

Marty gently picked up the broken pieces of the walkie-talkie. "Perfect, just _perfect_," he muttered. "My one link home, and it gets crushed by one of the wonder-bozos."

Emmett looked over his shoulder with a frown. "I'm very sorry about this. I didn't realize its importance to you."

"This was my ticket home," Marty mumbled, ignoring Emmett. "Shit. . . ."

"What was it, anyway?"

Marty blinked as he remembered Emmett's presence. He didn't think they had walkie-talkies in the 1930s - at least, not the kind he was using. What should he say? "Uh -- well -- it's kinda like a two-way radio, you can use to talk to people over long distances," he stammered, trying to keep things as vague as possible. "I work for an inventor, see, and--"

_And that was the most _idiotic_ thing I could have possibly said to him,_ he thought as Emmett's eyes lit up. "An inventor? A local one? Is he looking for assistants? I love science, I want to be an inventor someday too, I've already started building things in our garage, did I tell you about the blackboard erasing machine?" he babbled excitedly.

"Whoa, hold up! Sorry, but he's not local and he's not hiring," Marty said hurriedly.

Emmett's face sank. "Oh. Sorry. I'd just really appreciate a chance to work in a proper lab. My home environment isn't the most conducive toward scientific experimentation."

"Too bad," Marty shrugged. _Man, Doc is gonna be --_

_Doc! That's right, Doc's got the DeLorean! He's gotta come back for me soon, he'll be wondering why I'm not contacting him! I'm not stranded here after all! What a relief. _Marty's back straightened. _Of course, I gotta keep out of trouble until he shows up. . . . _"Listen, Emmett, now that my radio's broken, my boss will come looking for me. I'd better go and try to catch him. Nice meeting you."

"Wait a minute!" Emmett caught Marty's arm and frowned at the pieces in his hand. "Would you like me to make an attempt at fixing that?"

"Huh?"

"I feel somewhat responsible for your device being broken in the first place. And I really am competent with anything mechanical. I managed to fix our phone when it broke, and that sounds like it works on similar principles. I think I could at least try and jerry-rig it so you can talk to your boss and reassure him you're all right."

_Uh-oh._ "I -- I really don't know," Marty said nervously, fiddling with the parts. "It's really advanced stuff. Plus, I don't know if my boss would like you fiddling with it. He's pretty protective about his inventions."

"Yes, but -- how will he know where to find you if he can't contact you?"

That made Marty pause. Emmett did bring up a good point. He and Doc could end up playing Cat and Mouse if they didn't know where each other was. "Doc's a pretty resourceful guy," Marty hedged. "I could go down to the Courthouse, and I'm sure he'd eventually find me."

"Yes, but after how long? Plus, something could happen to you while you waited. The Okie families have started getting restless. A couple of people have already been mugged."

"I've got a good left hook and a great right jab," Marty assured him -- although the thought of being robbed by desperate Okies wasn't exactly comforting. "I can take care of myself, really."

Emmett's eyes darted back to the pieces. "If you're sure. . . ."

A thought struck Marty, making him smirk. "You just want to play with this thing, don't you?"

"That's not true!" Emmett protested, turning pink. Marty's smirk grew wider. Typical Doc. "Okay, okay, maybe it is. But I really do feel guilty, Mr. Jackson -- Marty. Just give me a chance. Please."

Marty looked at Emmett's pleading face. He was abruptly reminded of Doc's expression when Doc had taken him home after they had first met. It was an expression that spoke of a lot of lonely days in the lab, with only his precious inventions to keep him company. Emmett didn't want to just fiddle around with the walkie-talkie. He wanted Marty's company as well. _That's kind of weird though, he just met me. Then again, if everybody acts like those three goons did to him, I might be the first guy who hasn't immediately jumped down his throat in a while._ A swell of pity rose in his chest. _Damn it. . . . _He reluctantly handed over the pieces of the set.

Emmett carefully studied them, looking like he was about to start drooling any second. "Wow. You were right, these do look like advanced electronics. Your friend must be a real genius. I wish I could meet him."

Marty just barely kept in his laughter. "He's a private person. More at home with machines than with people."

"I sympathize," Emmett said, rolling his eyes. "It's rather futuristic, but I think I can rig something up. At least, I can try." He grinned at Marty. "You must be pretty smart yourself to work for this inventor. Do you have any experience with electrical work?"

"Uh -- not really," Marty admitted, a bit embarrassed. "I'm really more of a go-for guy. I didn't have much of an interest in science at all until I met up with the Doc."

"Doc?"

"Yeah, I call him Doc. Doctor -- Ricky Ricardo." _Oh yeah, good one, McFly._

"Ricky Ricardo?" Emmett snorted. "Well, really, I shouldn't say anything, it's no worse than Von Braun. Or even my own middle name."

"You mean Lathrop?" Marty sniggered.

"Yes! My mother must -- wait a minute, how did you know that!"

Marty was saved from answering by a feminine yell. "Emmett!"

Emmett spun around, his face lighting up. "Lucy!" He jogged up to the approaching girl and gave her a hug. "How are you, my dear?"

"Just fine," Lucy purred, running her fingers through his hair. "Were those nasty boys bothering you again?"

"Yes, unfortunately. Luckily I managed to run into someone much nicer." Emmett turned back around, the girl at his side. "Lucy, this is Mr. Michael 'Marty' Jackson. Marty, this is Miss Lucy Childs." With a silly grin, he added, "My girlfriend."

"Pleasure to meet you," Marty said, hiding his shock. That was another thing he had never imagined -- Doc with a girlfriend. He was so used to his best friend being a bachelor, it seemed weird for him to be with somebody.

_Hell, McFly, he's only human,_ he scolded himself as he shook Lucy's hand. _Of course he's going to have girlfriends! What about Jill Wooster?_ He frowned. _Yeah, the woman who publically dumped Doc for his worst enemy. Bad example. But still, it's not like he's gonna be alone all his life._

"Likewise," Lucy said neutrally. She cocked her head at him, looking Marty up and down. She was an extremely pretty girl -- about Marty's height, with short blond hair and cool green eyes. She was dressed in a light yellow blouse and long blue skirt, both obviously expensive. Her only defect seemed to be a permanent scowl. Very casually, she asked, "What does your father do for a living, Mr. Jackson?"

"Uh -- Dad writes, and I'm an inventor's assistant. I'm actually here in Hill Valley to help test an invention."

"Unfortunately, Henry and his gang destroyed it after Marty bumped into me," Emmett said, showing Lucy the remains of the set. "I convinced Marty to let me try and get it running again." He grinned at the tangle of wires and plastic. "Doesn't it look exciting?"

Lucy gave him a condescending smile. "Oh I wouldn't know. I'm just your girlfriend. Mechanical things are beyond me."

Marty frowned. Something about Lucy's tone of voice was bugging him. It was -- it was the kind of tone you'd use when you were listening to someone's boring hobby. Marty studied her closer. Although she appeared to be clinging to Doc, there was very little actual contact between them. And the look on her face didn't suggest love at all -- it suggested _tolerance_. Marty felt a sinking in his stomach. _Uh-oh. . . ._

Emmett, however, was oblivious, too caught up in studying the walkie-talkie innards. "I know, I know, you don't care. You have other things to do. It's fine, sweetie."

"Yes, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel our date for tonight. Mother wants me to give a piano recital for her friends. And you know how stubborn Mother can be once she sets her mind on something." Lucy sighed. "I'm sorry."

Doc frowned. "I'm sorry too. I was looking forward to tonight. Oh well." He perked up. "At least you can walk back home with me. That way we can spend a little time together."

"Sounds wonderful," Lucy smiled, looping her arm in his.

Marty felt a bit awkward, but also relieved. Maybe here was a chance to escape before he messed up the space-time continuum. "Listen, if you guys want some alone time, I'll just take my set and leave. Doc can fix it later."

"No, it's all right," Emmett said. "I promised to try and fix it for you. You won't disturb us, I'm sure."

"Emmett, if he wants to leave, you should let him," Lucy argued. "Besides--" she shot Marty a disdainful look "-- he's not our _class_ anyway."

Marty felt his temper rise again. "What does _that _mean?" he snapped.

"Well, you're _obviously_ not of our social class. That coat is a definite hand me down. And you're working, no less."

"Lucy, there's nothing wrong with working at our age," Emmett said patiently. "I'm actively seeking employment in his field, remember?"

"True, but you don't _need_ to work. That makes all the difference." She gave him a sickeningly-sweet smile. "In fact, with the Von Braun fortune at your fingertips, and the Childs fortune at mine, neither of us need ever work. We're above all that."

Marty stomach sank even further. _Oh boy. You can't interfere, McFly, Doc would kill you. But damn it, doesn't he see that all she's interested in is his money? Or does he just not care? Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he wants a girlfriend that badly. Jesus, I hope that's not the case. It would be way too depressing otherwise. Just please -- let _him_ dump _her

"You really shouldn't put so much emphasis on class, honey," Emmett counseled. Lucy merely shrugged. "And it was kind of my fault that the device got broken. I have a duty to set things right."

"But won't this mysterious employer of his be looking for him?" Lucy asked, giving Marty a cold look.

"Yeah, he probably is." _In fact, he should be here already,_ Marty thought, annoyed. _I mean, I _told_ him I was on Riverside Drive before the accident. Where the hell is he?_

"Well, it's possible his employer got tied up with another invention. It happens to me more often than I'd care to admit."

Marty was about to protest this when a thought struck him. _The inventions for the DeLorean. . . . Doc stayed up all night working on them. Maybe something happened to the car, and he has to try and fix it before getting me. But we made it here okay, and Doc made it back, too. If something really was wrong, we'd both be stranded here and I wouldn't be in this mess. Unless --_

_Unless it happened after Doc dropped me off. What if -- what if Doc's just as lost as I am? What if something happened to him while he was trying to get me? I mean, I know Doc. He'd come as soon as I stopped responding -- otherwise, he'd be tearing his hair out in worry. Damn it! I hate not knowing what's happened to him! He'd better be okay. He'd just better._

Emmett frowned at Marty's strained expression. "Are you all right, Marty? Did I upset you somehow? I didn't mean to, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm okay," Marty said, waving a hand in what he hopped was a casual manner. "He should notice I'm missing soon enough. We're really pretty close. But you know, you're right. I probably should see if I can contact him over that."

Emmett nodded and grinned, vindicated. "Well, you can stay at my house until I fix the device. I don't think my family will mind. He won't bother us on our walk, Lucy," Emmett added as Lucy sniffed.

"I promise I won't," Marty added. "I'll walk far behind you." _And I'll be concentrating too hard on a way to get out of this mess to bug you, too._

"Oh, all right," Lucy sighed, as if much put upon. She linked her arm with Emmett's and they started off down the street. Marty lagged behind, wondering how to make his stay at the Brown mansion as short as possible. _Man, I really hope that Doc understands this was all an accident. I'd hate for him to think that he can't trust me. But I have to contact him. I have to know that he's okay._

He watched Emmett and Lucy for a few minutes. Emmett had put his arm around her now, and was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Marty couldn't help but smile. _The Doc in love. Who would've thought? Too bad he's in love with a gold digger. . . ._ He shook his head. _This is turning out to be one hell of a day. What's next, some random person dropping out of the sky?_

"BOO!"


	4. Meet The Family

Chapter 4

Friday, September 2nd

3:49 P.M.

Marty found himself lying on the ground once again. "Augh! What the hell!"

"It's rude to swear in front of ladies!" Lucy exclaimed, looking indignant.

Emmett, however, was trying not to laugh. "Bad timing, Holly."

"I can see that."

Marty realized that the thing that had scared him was in fact a girl, about Emmett's age, hanging upside-down from a tree. Long black hair swung around her face, and her black dress was carefully tucked in to prevent it from falling and exposing her underwear. "Sorry about that," she said to Marty. "I was trying to scare Emmett over there."

"It's okay," Marty said, getting up with a grin. Now that the initial moment of terror had passed, he felt like laughing too. "You're good at that."

Holly grinned back. "Thanks. I try."

"Holly! What are you up to now!"

Another girl rushed onto the scene, shaking her head. She was wearing a long pink dress, and had her long brown hair done up in two pigtails. "You were trying to scare Emmett and Lucy again, weren't you? Oh Holly. . . ."

"Emphasis on trying," Emmett laughed. "She mistimed and frightened Mr. Jackson there instead."

The new girl turned worried eyes to Marty. The teen noticed they were the same chocolate brown as Doc's. _She must be Emily! Jesus, I'm getting to meet everybody today._ "Are you all right, Mr. Jackson?"

"Fine," Marty assured her. "Holly got me pretty good, though."

"I did, too," Holly said proudly, flipping herself over and swinging down.

"That's very unladylike," Lucy sniffed.

"When have you ever known _me_ to act like a lady?" Holly retorted. Lucy just rolled her eyes and looked away.

"Please, Lucy, she didn't mean anything by it," Emmett said. "Oh, Marty, I'd like you to meet my sister Emily Brown and our mutual best friend Holly Handlen. Emmy, Hol, this is Michael 'Marty' Jackson."

"Pleasure to meet you," Emily said politely, shaking Marty's hand.

"Same here," Marty said. "You look a lot like your brother."

"I know. People tell us that all the time."

"Sorry about scaring you like that again," Holly said, also shaking his hand. "I don't usually go around terrifying random strangers."

"It's okay." Marty was about to say something else when he got his first good look at Holly's face. More specifically, her eyes. They were pale grey in color, but appeared to be flecked with violet. Marty had never seen a pair of eyes like that in his life. Realizing he was staring, he quickly looked away.

Holly smirked. "Wondering about my eyes, huh?" Marty blushed and nodded. "It's okay. I wonder about them a lot myself. I don't know how they ended up like this."

"They suit you," Marty said truthfully. _Man, Doc, you were right. Black and white _don't _do them justice._

"Thanks. So how'd you stumble upon our resident genius?"

"We ran into each other -- literally," Emmett supplied.

"Were those boys chasing you again?" Emily asked, disgusted. "Emmett, you really have to learn to stand up for yourself! You're bigger than they are!"

"A) No, I'm not, Emily. We're all about the same height. B) I wouldn't _survive_ standing up to them. I don't have the necessary muscles. Those boys play on the football team. They feel no pain." Emmett shifted his books, scowling. "Besides, _I'd_ get in trouble if I stuck up for myself. Nobody in that college wants to lay a finger on any members of the football team. They're like royalty."

"I can relate," Marty muttered, remembering how honored the lunks on Hill Valley High's football team were, and how envious he had been as a freshman and sophomore.

"Even still, you shouldn't let them push you around like that."

"You know, I could--"

"Let's not start on the whole toad thing again, Holly," Emmett interrupted.

Holly pouted. "But I want to practice the shapeshifter spell! It's only temporary! Unless, of course, that's your objection."

Marty blinked. "Spell?" he repeated.

"Miss Handlen here thinks she's a witch," Lucy said coldly, obviously disgusted by Holly's very presence.

"It's a family trait," Holly said, glaring back at Lucy. "From my mother's side. Terrence, my older brother, and I were both born with the gift."

"I -- see."

Holly blushed a little. "You don't believe me, do you? It's all right, I'm not usually in the habit of telling strangers about me." She shot Lucy another look. "Unless someone else brings it up."

Lucy sighed. "Come on, Miss Handlen. Not even _Emmett_ believes you're a witch."

"At least he isn't saying that I'm crazy. And besides, he's _seen_ evidence of my witchcraft! Haven't you, Emmett?"

"I admit that you've done a few interesting things that I can't yet explain," Emmett admitted, looking from Holly to Lucy nervously, "but I'm not quite at the point of admitting you're a witch."

"I bet it would help if you let me try out the shape-shifting spell. I'd like to see you try and come up with a scientific explanation for _that_."

"It would, but I don't want you to -- and not because it would prove you right."

"Emmett, I'm sure I could get it to work!"

"On which try? Look at things from your point of view. What if you accidentally mess up the spell? Instead of toads, I could be facing werewolves. Or what happens if the spell has a bad effect on you? I don't want you getting hurt."

"I doubt I'd make _that_ bad of a mishap. And trust me, you're worth whatever repercussions the spell would throw at me. I want you to be happy, Emmett."

"Can we please get _going_?" Lucy whined. "I have to be back at my mother's by 4:30 for my recital and then our dinner!"

"Great Scott, then we'd best hurry," Emmett said, checking both his watches. "We'll continue this discussion later, Holly."

"Fine with me. We were heading back to your house anyway. Don't worry, we won't get in your way," Holly added as Lucy shot them a withering look. "We'll stay back here and get acquainted with this Marty Jackson fellow." She put a hand on Marty's shoulder. "Make sure he isn't causing any _trouble_ for Emmett."

Lucy sniffed and pulled Emmett ahead, muttering something about "the lower classes." Holly turned to Marty. "Well then, now that we've gotten rid of the Queen Snob, what are you doing hanging around Emmett? Most people I know would have run the first chance they got."

"Either that or started bullying him," Emily added, scowling.

"Yeah, he basically said as much," Marty admitted. "I was in town testing an invention a friend of mine had built, and it got broken when we ran into each other. Emmett offered to fix it for me. Well, I shouldn't say _offered_, he said he'd fix it and wouldn't take no for an answer."

Emily and Holly both laughed. "That's my little brother all right. Don't worry, you're in good hands. Emmett's a lot better at building and fixing things than he is experimenting with chemicals. Not that he isn't good with those too -- people just tend to remember the more explosive results."

"Yeah, I expect," Marty nodded, remembering how used he had become to the sound of an explosion from Doc's lab. "And -- well -- I got the feeling he could use the company. He seemed almost -- depressed."

Holly smiled sadly. "Yeah, Emmett's like that sometimes, sad to say. He's always had a problem making friends." She nudged Emily playfully. "Good thing I chose your table to sit at a few years ago, huh?"

"Definitely," Emily grinned back. "I'm glad to see that you've risen above the natural prejudices around him, Marty. Emmett could probably use some male company. He's generally either with us or with Lucy."

Holly shot a dark look at Lucy. "She doesn't deserve him," she said. "She's just so _nasty_ to anyone who doesn't fit her narrow world view -- that is, who isn't as rich as God."

"I agree," Emily said, looking concerned. "All she ever wants to talk about is money. Emmett's admitted to me that he's been bored by some of their conversations. Why couldn't he have found some nice girl who was interested in science?" She suddenly blushed and looked at Marty. "I'm sorry, we really shouldn't be badmouthing her in front of you."

"No, it's fine," Marty assured her. "I've only known Lucy for about 20 minutes, and I agree with you. She kinda seems to radiate mean."

Emily sighed and nodded. "I don't know why he stays with her."

"Emily, it's obvious," Holly said. "He's lonely. He's deluded himself into thinking that she really loves him." She gave the couple in front of her a sad look. "What really worries me is if they get married. Then it'll be too late."

Marty just stopped himself from saying that Holly didn't need to worry. Instead, he just nodded and frowned.

Holly suddenly stopped and looked at him oddly. "What the -- now that doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" Marty asked.

"You're -- you're giving off this strange -- I don't know. I'm sensing some sort of deeper connection between you and Emmett," she said, waving her hand between them. "Like -- you know each other, but you don't. I don't get it."

Marty's heart beat a little faster. He had been inclined to just dismiss Holly's talk of witchcraft before, but now. . . . Could it be that she was somehow sensing his friendship to Emmett's older self? He forced himself to shrug. "You're the witch, not me. I just didn't see the point of being mean to him when I met him. I know what he's going through because of my height."

Holly smiled again. "I see. I'm glad you feel that way. Enough kids don't." She suddenly frowned. "Uh, Marty, about the witch thing --"

"Don't worry, I'm not stuck in the Middle Ages," Marty said with a small smile. "You seem nice enough anyway. I'm not gonna make a fuss over it."

"Thanks. I'm not in the habit of shooting my mouth off like that just in front of anyone. It's just that I'm used to it just being us, and Emily, Emmett and Lucy all know."

"Yeah, I understand. Don't worry about it." Marty found himself grinning again as the Brown mansion came into sight. Finally, something he could relate to. "Nice place you've got, Emmett!" he called.

Lucy smirked. "Well, of course Emmett's home is going to be nice," she said snottily. "He comes from very good money. Our parents are the richest families on the block."

"And mine's the poorest," Holly said. "Funny though --we're not starving to death, and we're _happy--_"

"Holly," Emmett said imploringly as Lucy scowled.

"Just making a point," Holly said. Emmett sighed and turned back to Lucy.

"_I_ thought it was good," Marty whispered, earning himself an appreciative grin.

As they approached the front door, they could see a man toiling in the hedges in front of the house, pulling the weeds clustering around the roots. He tipped his hat in greeting as the group neared. "Hello Master Emmett, Miss Lucy, Miss Emily, Miss Holly." He frowned at Marty. "Master--?"

"This is Marty Jackson," Emmett said as Marty nodded. "I'm repairing a device he had on him."

"Better not let Master Elias find out," the gardener warned. "You know how he feels about such things."

"All too well," Emmett sighed.

"Father's out of the house at the moment," Emily said. "He got an emergency call from the Peabodys earlier today. Emmett's safe for now."

"Emergency call? Is your father a doctor?" Marty asked, interested.

"_Animal_ doctor," Emmett said with a slight grin. "One of the best Hill Valley's seen too, I have to admit. He met Mother while treating her sick cat. Unfortunately, he has a bit of a temper. I do my best to avoid him if he's in a bad mood."

"We _all_ do," Emily nodded. "He throws things."

"Nice."

"He can be very nice when he wants to be," Lucy said. "He's always been a gentleman around me." She nudged Emmett. "Must be where this one gets it from." Emmett blushed happily. "And now I should go. I'm probably going to be late as it is."

"You can't be late," Emmett teased. "They can't start the recital without you."

"True," Lucy grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow -- hopefully without all these distractions." She glared at Marty, Emily, and Holly before smiling at Emmett again.

"I'll count the hours," Emmett said sweetly, kissing her. Lucy took the kiss, but made little effort to return it. Emily, Holly, and Marty all shared a look. "Goodbye and good luck."

"Thank you. Goodbye all." With a little wave, she jogged lightly down the path and up the block.

Emmett watched her depart with a grin. "She's so great. I'm so lucky to have her." He turned to Marty. "Ready to get started?"

"He really should meet Mother first," Emily said, going to the door. "She'll be pleased you found a friend." She pushed the door open. "Mother?"

"Yes Emily?" a voice called.

"Mother, we have a guest. Come in, Marty."

Marty followed Emily inside, trailed by Emmett and Holly. The Brown mansion looked much the same as it had in 1955. Marty felt himself relax a little. It felt good to be in familiar surroundings, even if he technically wasn't supposed to be there.

A woman appeared in the main entrance hall, trailed by a black maid. She appeared to be in her mid to late 30s, with long blond hair done up in a ponytail and bright blue eyes. She smiled elegantly at Marty. "Hello. I'm Mrs. Sarah Brown."

"Hello, I'm Marty Jackson," Marty replied, nodding politely. "It's nice to meet you."

"He's Emmett's new friend," Emily beamed.

"I don't know about 'friend,'" Emmett said nervously. "I'm really only doing Marty a favor -- actually, what I'm doing is fixing a mistake. I'm repairing a device of his that got broken when we literally ran into each other. Is it all right if he stays over for a little while?"

"Of course!" Sarah said. "I'm glad you found someone to _bring_ over. How long will you be staying, Mr. Jackson?"

"Not too long, I've got--"

"Sarah?"

The entire family gave a start. Sarah's smile lessened a little. "My husband," she explained, glancing at Marty. "I hope _he_ approves you staying here. Elias is -- particular -- about the people he chooses to associate with."

Before Marty could ask what she meant by that, a man appeared in one of the side doorways, sighing heavily. He was covered in dirt and sweat, and was wearing long black gloves. His brown hair was just starting to go gray, and he had a matching beard and mustache. "What a day, Sarah," he complained, not looking at the teenagers. "Peabody's cow was having twin calves, and one of them was in breech of course -- we barely saved the mother. Some days -- oh, hello," he said, noticing Marty for the first time. "Who is this?"

Marty felt a bit intimidated. Elias's brown eyes were cold and demanding, nothing at all like his children's warm and friendly ones. "My name's Michael Jackson, sir," he said, straightening to his full if unimpressive height.

"He's one of Emmett's friends, Father," Emily said, fidgeting under her father's gaze. "Emmett's doing him a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

"I'm fixing something of his," Emmett said in a small voice. Despite the fact that he had a good inch or two of height on his father, Emmett looked terrified of him.

"Oh. I'd recommend you run over to the shop in town instead, Mr. Jackson," Elias said. "Emmett can't fix anything without 'improving' it."

Marty didn't like Elias's tone of voice. He sounded almost _ashamed_ of his son. "Well, sir, Emmett did offer, and he may be the best man for the job. I'm an inventor's assistant, you see, and--"

"Inventor! INVENTOR?" Elias turned a shocking shade of red as Marty stumbled back in shock. "God damn it, Sarah, do you see what's happened! Emmett invited him over in hopes of getting a job with one of those nuts!"

"Elias, watch your mouth!" Sarah yelled back. "There are ladies present!"

"You call _her_ a lady?" Elias said, glaring at Holly like she was the scum of the earth.

"Father, don't make a scene," Emily pleaded, looking near tears. "Mr. Jackson was just saying--"

"Right _now_ he's just saying he's an inventor's assistant. But soon enough he and Emmett will get together and blow the roof off of the house. Egged on by _her_, no doubt. Inventors and scientists are not to be trusted! They're evil and working to destroy the world! Along with bankers! And of course _her_ kind."

Holly folded her arms. "I'm not trying--"

"Don't lie to me. Your kind are all the same. Consorting with demons, losing your soul. . . ." He turned and glared at Emily. "I warned you about being friends with her. At least you don't appear to have picked up any of her taint -- unlike Emmett. I don't know why I even let her in the house, she's probably infecting it with her evil right now."

Emily sniffled, her eyes welling up, but seemed too scared to say anything. Holly put an arm around her. "It's all right, Emily," she whispered. "I've heard it all before."

Marty stared at the scene, stunned. _Holy shit, I'm understanding more and more why Doc never talks about his childhood. His father's a freaking lunatic! And I just _know_ something bad is going to happen with Lucy. Shit._

"Elias, Holly is Emily and Emmett's friend," Sarah said severely. "_That's_ why you let her into the house." She softened, glancing at Marty apologetically. "You're in a temper. Come into the kitchen and I'll make you a nice raspberry tart. You should be glad Emmett's found a new friend."

"A new friend like _her_," Elias mumbled, although looking somewhat appeased by the thought of a raspberry tart. "If I hear a job offer, so help me God I'll strangle him."

"I'm not here to offer him a job!" Marty said forcefully. "I'm here to get my stuff fixed! That's all!"

"His employer isn't even hiring," Emmett added. "Plus he isn't local. I'd prefer to work for someone in town."

"You won't be working for anyone like that at _all_," Elias said dangerously. Emmett wilted. "I won't allow it. You're going to become something sensible and forget this invention foolishness. And don't you try to convince him otherwise," he snapped, rounding on Emily and Holly. "Ever since the three of you got together, things have just gone downhill. And as for you--" he turned and glared at Marty. "I want you out of here by suppertime, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"He can stay for supper," Sarah said firmly. "Emmett deserves to have friends over."

"Fine, but after supper, out he goes." Elias gave them all one last glare, then brightened. "Now then, Sarah, how about that raspberry tart?" Sarah took his arm and led him to the kitchen, followed by the maid.


	5. Mr FixIt

Chapter 5

Friday, September 2nd

4:07 P.M.

The foursome watched the adults leave. Marty shook his head. "Uh -- not to be rude, but I don't think 'particular' is the right word for your father."

"It sounds better than 'paranoid,'" Emily admitted. "I'm sorry you had to see him that way. We should have warned you earlier."

Holly patted him on the back. "Don't take any of it personally, Marty. He hates anybody who likes science or who works with it. I think he considers it a form of witchcraft -- which he also hates."

Emmett sighed. "It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't constantly try to stifle my ambitions. He keeps telling me I have to become a vet like him, or else something equally non-threatening. I hate it."

Emily hugged her brother. "I do too. Holly and I know you're an excellent scientist. You should be allowed to follow your dream."

"Yeah, I agree," Marty nodded. He felt really bad for Emmett. The poor guy apparently really _did_ have no friends apart from his sister and Holly. Marty had always thought Doc had been exaggerating on that point. _And_ he had that nutcase of a father to deal with. _I can't believe anyone's life could suck this much. Makes you wonder how Doc turned out so well._ "If you're good at something, you should do it."

Emmett smiled weakly. "Thanks everyone. We'd better get to another part of the house -- Father always need a little time to cool down after one of his outbursts."

"You also need to start working on that," Holly pointed out, motioning to the busted walkie talkie.

"My room it is, then. Come on." Emmett led the way through the living room, up the stairs, and down the upper hallway. Marty did his best to look lost as he followed the familiar path. "That's my room," Emily said, pointing to the first door they passed upstairs. Marty glanced in to see quite a bit of pink. "Mother and Father's room is down at the end of the hall."

Marty nodded as they entered Emmett's room. The walls were done in dark wood paneling and the floor in rich red carpet, much like the downstairs rooms. However, Emmett had definitely made the room his own. Everything about it just screamed scientist. There was a bookcase against the far wall, and books scattered liberally about the room. Joining them were a number of completed and partially-completed inventions. Various technical drawings were tacked onto the walls, showcasing the inventions in progress. The bed was made but very rumpled-looking, and next to it was an absurdly huge pile of laundry and other miscellaneous junk. Next to the door was a desk completely taken up by a chemistry set and small Bunsen burner. The chair had yet more books piled on it. Emmett set the remains of the walkie-talkie on the pile and picked up a vial of yellow liquid. "Do you mind if I attend to this first?" he asked Marty, nodding toward the chemistry set.

"Go ahead," Marty said. "Your dad lets you keep all this out in the open?"

"This is a recent development," Emmett admitted, pouring the liquid into a beaker. "I used to have to hide it all. Mother interceded for me about two months ago." He carefully suspended it over a low flame and watched it for a moment. "I always have to keep the door closed though, to avoid any comments."

"I see." Marty looked at the beaker as well. "So what's that stuff for?"

"It's allergy medication," Emmett explained, adding a spoonful of green powder to the beak as it began to simmer. "I suffer from a few rather unfortunate ones, such as sensitivity to certain fabrics, occasional nasty hay fever, and -- well, I'm not sure if it's a true allergy or some other medical issue, but I react rather badly to alcohol. I'm hoping this mixture will lessen their effects. The first two anyway, I don't care so much about the alcohol problem."

"I thought Darla – the maid -- didn't want you doing experiments in your room anymore," Holly commented.

"Like your mother doesn't want you mixing potions in yours?" Emmett countered.

"I picked up that bad habit from _you_."

Marty smirked. "You two bicker like an old married couple."

"We get that a lot," Holly admitted. "I think half of my class thinks I'm in love with him."

"Kids in my classes could care less," Emmett said, turning the heat down a bit. "Which is good -- the last thing I need are 'ladies man' jokes." He glanced at Marty. "Besides, Holly and I are more like sister and brother than anything else."

Marty nodded. _I bet -- but I'd still rather see you with Holly than with Lucy._

Looking around the room again, he noticed a new detail. What he had previously taken for a huge pile of laundry was in fact a second bed covered in laundry. Marty frowned, puzzled. "Hey, Emmett? Why do you have two beds?"

Emmett's body suddenly went rigid. "It was my brother's," he said in a controlled voice. "He moved out a few months ago."

"Oh," Marty said, feeling uneasy. Everything about Emmett's body posture said he didn't want to talk about it. But at the same time, he was absolutely stunned. _Doc has a _brother _too! I don't believe it! Why would Doc never tell me that he had a brother? Even if they didn't get along, you think it would come up at _some_ point. He told me about his sister shortly after we met! Why wouldn't he tell me about his brother? What other secrets has Doc been hiding from me? Damn it, I want answers! But I can't talk to this Doc about it, either, shit. . . ._ He finally just shrugged. "Sorry if I hit a nerve. Just curious."

Emmett relaxed again and added two drops of a blue liquid to his beaker. "It's okay. I just don't like to talk about him."

"Emmett and Jack never got along," Emily said, with a hint of sadness.

"I don't blame him," Holly said with a shudder. "I got some _frightening_ feelings from Jack. I'm glad he's gone."

"I am too. Mother doesn't like me using his bed as a hamper, but I'd rather listen to her lectures then look at the bed. Too many bad memories." Emmett watched as the liquid inside the beaker turned a strange bright blue-green color. "Perfect." He turned off the heat. "I'll just let that sit for a little while to cool, then I'll test it. In the meantime--"

"Are you sure that concoction's safe?" Marty asked, unable to help himself. "It doesn't look all that healthy."

Emmett smiled reassuringly. "Yes, I'm sure. All the ingredients are safe for human consumption, and I've tested a variation on the mixture before. It seemed to work, but I suffered from recurring bouts of hiccups for a week. Hopefully the adjustments I've made will prevent that from occurring. It's all safe, Marty, I promise. I certainly wouldn't try to poison myself, right?"

Marty blushed a little. "Good point. I'm sorry, Emmett, I didn't mean to question you like that. I just didn't want you getting hurt."

"I know you didn't. Thanks for your concern, but I assure you, everything's under control." Emmett picked up the walkie-talkie. "Now, as for your device -- it's certainly been dealt some severe damage, no point in lying about that. I don't think I'll be able to repair it in full, considering the damage and how advanced the device itself is. But I do think I can devise something that will allow for communication through it again."

"If anyone can do it, it's you, Emmett," Holly said encouragingly. "He's great at this sort of thing, Marty. He built a radio out of a toaster once."

"Terrible reception, unfortunately," Emmett said, poking cautiously at the exposed wires. "1080 FM was the perfect setting for an English muffin, though."

Marty laughed. _Oh yeah. That's classic Doc, right there._ "Let's see what you can do, then."

"Watch and learn." Emmett fussed around with the innards a little more, then pulled open a drawer in his desk and started rummaging around inside. "Let's see, I'm going to need some wire -- see what I can tie back together -- and some conducive materials. . . ."

Marty watched as Emmett began connecting pieces of wire and metal to the inner workings of the walkie-talkie. Even though he didn't have a clue as to what Emmett was doing, it was still fascinating to watch him work. _Some things never change,_ he thought with a small smile.

After a few long minutes, Emmett finished. "There. We should be able to get _something_ from this now, even if it's just static." He looked up at Marty. "Ready to test?"

Marty glanced around. He _would_ have preferred to test Emmett's repair job more privately, but it appeared he had no choice. Both Emily and Holly were leaning in, eager to see what would happen. Hoping they wouldn't recognize Doc's voice, Marty nodded. "Good," Emmett said. "I"m going to depress this tab of metal here. That should restore the circuit loop and allow for the radio signals to get through. Just talk into the speaker and see if anyone responds."

"Gotcha." Marty sat down by Emmett as he pushed the piece of metal in. The device promptly began to crackle. "Hello?" Marty called into it, crossing his fingers. "Hello?"

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

3:57 P.M.

Doc glared at the tangle of wires behind the flux capacitor. He'd been working on this problem for nearly an hour, and _still _no results! Anything could have happened to Marty as he toiled away here. He could have been seriously hurt, or forced into interacting with his relatives again, or anything else for that matter. It was all very frustrating. _I just wish I knew that he was all right!_

Right on cue, the time talkie sprang back to life with a surprisingly loud burst of static. "--lo? Hel--" was faintly identifiable.

Doc raced for the device, nearly tripping over his own feet, and snatched it up. "Marty! Marty, are you there! Over!"

A moment later, Marty's fragmented voice replied. "Ye -- mfine -- u?"

Doc took this to mean, "Yeah, I'm fine. You?" _I wonder how much of my first message he heard. I'll need to compensate for the deficiencies in the receiver._ He spoke as slowly and clearly as possible, pausing between each word. "I'm fine. The DeLorean is temporarily out of commission, I'm afraid. Where are you?"

On the other side in 1938, Doc's reply was a lot clearer than his first message. "I'm -- ne. Th -- Lorean – temporar – of commiss – Where -- you?"

Emily snorted. "Maybe it's just all the static, but he sounds a bit like you, Emmett."

"I noticed that too," Holly said with a grin. "Does Emmett remind you of your employer, Marty?"

_Don't laugh, McFly! _"Yeah, he kinda does," Marty said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"I see. That probably explains why I felt you and Emmett should know each other."

"Probably," Marty nodded, relieved.

"What's a Lorean?" Emmett asked, glowing with pride.

"It's what he calls his car -- he's made some modifications to _that_ too. I guess something happened to it." Marty scowled to himself. "Figures. I'm at the Brown Mansion, Doc," he said into the speaker.

"Brow -- mans -- oc," came through on Doc's side. Doc felt his stomach twist. Brown Mansion? What was Marty doing there, of all places? Didn't he know to --

Oh, wait. He himself had dragged Marty there, out of a combination of fascination over Marty's mysterious device, guilt over the device being broken, and loneliness. Strange though -- he didn't remember Marty staying for that long. . . . _I'll have to examine this phenomenon in more depth later. Right now, I just have to reassure Marty that I'm okay and that I'll be there as soon as I'm able._ "I'll try to be there as quickly as humanly possible. In the meantime, be careful."

"--tcha, Doc. -- et me -- ou can--"

"I'll be there before the night is out," Doc promised him. "Over and out, Marty." He cut contact and sat down. _Great Scott. This could have some very serious repercussions on the space-time continuum. If only my younger self hadn't acted so irrationally! Although I can understand why he did -- my younger years were far from the happiest in my life. Especially the day Marty's stuck in. . . ._ Doc grimaced. _Great Scott, I hope I get there before he has to witness the monstrosity that is the night of September 2nd, 1938. I suppose all I can hope for is that Marty does his best to stay out of any events he might accidentally be involved in. Right now, I need to focus on getting him back into his proper time period._ Sighing, he set back to work on the DeLorean.

Friday, September 2nd

4:18 P.M.

Marty sighed as Doc signed off with an "Ov -- d out." "Well, at least I know he's okay now."

"Even if he apparently can't come and get you right away," Emily nodded. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

"I don't think so. . . ."

"I can't get over how much he sounded like Emmett," Holly said. "Maybe he's a distant relative of the Browns, and that's where Emmett gets his personality from."

"I doubt it," Emmett said practically. "All my relatives are either here, in New York, or back in Germany." He sighed, a wistful expression on his face. "It's nice to think about though. I wish I _did_ have a relative who was a scientist. Maybe Father would tolerate my interest in the subject better if I did."

"I doubt it. Father would have disowned whoever it was," Emily said sadly.

"Yeah, he does seem like that sort of guy," Marty agreed. "I'm sorry, Emmett."

"For what? You haven't done anything to me. If anything, you're one of the nicer people I've met."

"I know, but -- I feel bad. My family's not like this, so I didn't think anyone else's could be."

Emmett smiled. "Oh, it's not all bad. Mother's the sweetest woman you'll ever meet. And of course I've got these two with me."

"And don't you forget it," Holly said, sweeping him into a hug. "He's the brains, we're the brawn."

Marty laughed. "I thought it was supposed to be the other way around."

"You're thinking 'boyfriend and girlfriend,' not 'young scientist and two protective sister figures,'" Emmett replied, wiggling out of Holly's grip. "Besides, they're built for fighting more than I am."

"Not that we actually _have_ fought boys," Emily quickly said, turning pink.

"_You_ haven't," Holly corrected with a smirk. "But yeah, simpering eyes and sweet smiles work a lot better than fists."

Marty grinned and shook his head. "Man, I'm glad I smacked into you today, Emmett. Otherwise I wouldn't have met any of you. You're all such a great bunch of characters."

"We take immense pride in that," Holly said.

Emmett nodded. "I'm glad I met you too. It's nice to talk to another kid my age who's interested in science. I'm almost glad those bullies started chasing me." He winked. "Almost."

Marty chuckled. "Same here. Although, really, I'm more interested in music. . . ."


	6. Explosions

Chapter 6

Friday, September 2nd, 1938

Hill Valley

6:02 P.M.

"Emmett! Emily! Mr. Jackson! Supper!"

Emmett put down his cards. "Damn. I thought I was going to beat you this time, too."

"That's the way the cookie crumbles," Marty said, also putting down his cards. Truth be told, despite his nervousness about messing up the space-time continuum, he had had a lot of fun in the past two hours. Emmett had tested his anti-allergen -- it appeared to work, but he had gotten a rather bad nosebleed (which luckily had cleared up after a half-hour). Holly had told Marty all about her adventures with Emmett and about the witchcraft she was learning, then had started a pillow fight. Despite her gothic appearance, Holly was definitely the most bubbly and fun-loving of the group. Marty had been very sad to see her go at 5:30. After she left, they had broken out the cards and started playing an early version of "Go Fish" called "Authors." _Man, this is almost like hanging out with my own friends back home. I'll have to ask Doc more about Holly and his sister when I get back to 1986. They all seem really close._

Marty frowned. No matter how much fun he was having here, he was still worried. Doc had promised to get him before the night was out, but it was 6:00 already, and still no sign of him. _The repairs for the DeLorean must be taking longer than he thought,_ Marty thought as he followed Emmett downstairs to the dining room. _But why would he just leave me here? I'm trying my best not to affect the space-time continuum too much, but really, doesn't it make more sense to show up and whisk me away before I even bump into Emmett? Probably has to do with some obscure fact involving the space-time continuum that I have no hope of understanding. I just hope Doc tries to explain it in English and not in Science._

Elias and Sarah were already at the table. Emily, Emmett and Marty sat down as Darla began serving the food. "Smells delicious, Mrs. Brown," Marty said as he got a healthy helping of pot roast.

"Thank you." As everyone was served, Sarah bowed her head. The rest of the family followed suit. Marty, who had been reaching for his fork, quickly bowed his head as well. "Dear Lord, please bless this bounty and this house. May we always strive to be worthy in Your eyes. Amen."

"Amen," everyone echoed. Marty waited a moment to make sure it was safe, then grabbed his fork and dug in.

Elias gave him a stern look as they started eating. "So, what do you do for this -- inventor?"

"Odd jobs," Marty said, getting fidgety under Elias's glare. "Do the dishes, fetch his materials, occasionally assist him with his projects -- that sort of thing."

"Oh, so you're his servant."

"What? No, it's not like _that_! He's my friend!"

Elias gave him a condescending smile. "Face facts, lad. You're his servant. The only reason he's looking for you is so he doesn't have to do his own chores."

"Elias!" Sarah said reprovingly.

"Father, please! He's our guest," Emily added.

"No, he's _Emmett's_ guest. There's a difference. And that's only because Emmett felt the need to tinker around with that device he had and find out more about that inventor person."

Emmett scowled into his food. "That's not true. He was nice to me. He saved one of my Jules Verne books."

"You should see them together, Father," Emily said, wiping her mouth. "They're almost like brothers."

"Just like you and that dratted Handlen girl are like sisters?"

Marty could feel the beginnings of the words "Lay off, you douche," forming on his lips. He stopped them with a piece of potato. _Can't lose my temper, can't interfere. . . ._

"And anyways, Father, even if I _did _invite him over for those reasons you suggested before -- well, what of it? I want to be a scientist when I get older. Why shouldn't I want to talk to someone who might be able to help me?"

Elias scowled back. "Because it's foolish. All scientists ever do is ruin the world. They want to poison and kill the rest of us in the name of their sick inventions!"

"That's not true! Look at all the good things science has given us! Electric light! Cars! Clocks! Ballpoint pens!"

"Stoves," Marty added, poking at the pot roast. He thought he saw Sarah and Emily bite back grins.

"Exactly. Even your beloved morning cup of coffee was created through scientific experimentation. I showed you that article about instant coffee myself." Elias glared at him, his face reddening. "Scientists show off the world's potential for change, for improvement. I want to do the same thing. I still have those plans for an automatic dog washer. I'm still working out the details, but I'm sure I--"

"There will be no dog-washers on my premises!" Elias snapped, pounding a fist on the table.

"You're a veterinarian! It'll be good for business!"

"I said no! It's bad enough you tinker with things on your own time! I don't want to be involved!"

Emmett scowled defiantly, tightening his grip on his silverware. "I'm not a child anymore, Father," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm almost 18. I'm in my senior year of college."

"You're still not the master of this house. You're not becoming a scientist, and that's final."

Emmett glowered into his pot roast. "You didn't care when Jack moved out to take that lab job," he muttered.

"That's different. Jack's interests focus on biology. That's better than your brand of science. I don't totally trust doctors either, but they have more reasons to want us alive. I should know. And of course Jack was a lot more _obedient _than you ever were."

Emmett jabbed a piece of meat and didn't reply. The table fell into an uncomfortable silence. Marty, feeling uneasy, tried to make conversation. "So what do you do, Emily? Have you thought about going to college as well?"

"Not really -- and at any rate, there's no women's colleges around here," Emily replied. "I work with Mrs. Hanon down the road. We're seamstresses."

"_She_ gets to do something she loves," Emmett muttered into his pot roast. "And so does _Jack._ What's so different about me? Oh, yes, I'm the _weird_ child."

"What was that?" Elias asked sharply.

Emmett glared at him icily. "Nothing, _sir_."

Emily and Sarah glanced at each other worriedly. "Er -- Mr. Jackson, do you live around here?"

"No, I live in Grass Valley," Marty said quickly. The last thing he needed was for Sarah to try and contact his family. "The only reason I was in town was to help test the radio." Looking pointedly at Elias he added, "Which Emmett did an excellent job of fixing, by the way."

Elias pointed his fork at Marty. "Look here. I don't want you corrupting my son any further. It's bad enough he's friends with the Handlen girl and is in college _far_ too early. I'm going to nip this problem in the bud, before his life is completely ruined. Emmett's going to become something sensible, like a businessman, or a vet like me. Not some damned physicist and inventor who's going to blow up our town. Understood?"

Marty didn't respond, not trusting himself enough to not say something nasty. Emmett looked startled. "Father, I -- I thought you were _proud_ of my academic achievements," he said quietly, looking hurt.

"He is, honey," Sarah rushed to say. "He's just had a hard day, that's all."

"I'd be prouder if you acted more like your brother," Elias muttered.

Emmett went very tense. "Well, I don't," he said shortly, stabbing at his pot roast rather viciously. Marty moved away a bit, sensing a pending explosion.

"Father, please," Emily begged. "This is not the time to get into one of your spats. We have a guest."

"Yes, Elias, you're being foolish," Sarah added with an exasperated sigh.

"Me? It's _him_ that's being foolish," Elias said, nodding at Emmett. "He thinks he knows what's best for him, but he doesn't. Things were a lot better in this household before he read those terrible Jules Verne books. If I had my way, he--"

"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"

Everyone at the table jumped backwards as Emmett exploded out of his seat, raging at his father. "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO CONTROL EVERY ASPECT OF MY LIFE? WHY! I SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO DO WHAT I WANT! I'M SICK OF YOU SHOOTING DOWN MY DREAMS! I'M A GOOD SCIENTIST, AND _THAT_ IS WHAT I'M GOING TO BE! _AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME_!"

There was a moment of silence as everyone gaped at Emmett. Then Elias rose to his feet, his face purple and veins visibly pulsing in his neck. "You listen here, you spoiled brat," he snarled, grabbing Emmett and shaking him roughly. "Get it through your thick skull that _I_ am in charge here! I'm the master of this house! You'll do as I say, or you'll suffer the consequences!"

"No I won't! I'm almost an adult, Father! I should be allowed to make my own decisions! _I'm going to become a scientist_!"

"Shut up! I don't know why I'm worried, really, nothing you do works anyway! Just my luck I'd have a freak for a son!" With that, he slapped Emmett across the face.

Something inside Marty snapped. "Leave him alone, you bastard!" he yelled, leaping to his feet.

Elias turned on him, pointing. "You shut up too. You're here at my sufferance. I should throw you out on the street like the trash you are. Emmett doesn't need any more corrupting influences in his life."

"Yeah, really -- having a father who's insane should be enough!"

"How _dare_ you insult me in my own house!"

"It's true!" Emmett and Marty yelled in unison. "You are insane!" Emmett continued, face red with rage. It was obvious he'd been holding this in for a long time. He jabbed an accusing finger in his father's chest. "You don't trust _anybody_! What kind of a life is that? Why can't you support me in this? In anything!"

"Because I want you to be a normal human being! Not some mad scientist who's only goal is to rule the world! Why can't you be more like your brother?"

"STOP COMPARING ME TO JACK!" With no warning, Emmett pulled back his fist and punched his father in the nose.

For a few seconds, time seemed to stop. Emily and Sarah stared at the boys, hands held tightly. Elias had one hand to his nose, looking stunned. Emmett's eyes widened with surprise as he realized just what he had done. Marty just stared, shocked.

Elias broke the spell by lowering his hand. His nose had gone bright red and was beginning to swell. Marty was briefly reminded of clowns. "GET -- OUT," he hissed, eyes flashing fire.

Both Marty and Emmett backed away, terrified. Emmett opened his mouth to say something, triggering an explosion from Elias. "OUT! OUT! YOU'RE NO LONGER MY SON! OUT, OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE!"

Emmett turned and raced for the stairs. Marty did the same, having no better plan. He entered the room to see Emmett frantically stuffing clothes into a suitcase. By the way his lower lip was quivering, Marty could tell that he was fighting tears. _Shit,_ Marty thought, blinking back a few tears of his own. _Poor Emmett. He's gotten kicked out of his house because I had to stay for dinner and talk to Elias. Oh man --_

_Doc's gonna _flay_ me! Jesus, how stupid can you get! I just helped change history! And I can't change it back either, judging by how pissed off Elias was. Shit shit shit. . . ._

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Emmett froze, a Jules Verne book clutched in his hands. Marty watched the door fearfully, hoping it wasn't Elias.

Emily appeared instead, her eyes red. "You two better hurry," she warned. "Mother's trying to calm Father down, but she's not having much luck. I've never seen him so angry. He's actually threatening to set your room on fire -- and you too, if you're not out in ten minutes."

Emmett sprang back into action, grabbing some more books. Marty numbly picked up the pieces of the walkie talkie. "I'm so sorry, Emmett. . . ."

"Could you please hand me that notebook there?" Emmett asked briskly. "It contains all the notes on all the experiments I've been working on for the last year. I don't care about the rest of it so much, but I don't want to lose that."

Marty handed him the notebook. Emmett made a quick attempt at organizing everything, then slammed the suitcase shut. "Have you got your invention?" Marty nodded. "Good. We'd best make tracks out of here then."

"I'll show you to the servants' entrance. Father's likely to throw a bigger fit if he sees you again," Emily said. "Come along, Emmett, Marty."

Marty followed Emmett and Emily down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out a rather filthy-looking door. Emmett embraced his sister. "Thanks Emily. I hope it doesn't go too badly for you."

"Me either. Stay safe, Emmett." She kissed him on the cheek. "Goodbye Marty. I wish we were parting under better circumstances."

"Me too. Goodbye Emily." They shook hands. Then Emily went back inside and closed the door on them. Emmett and Marty looked at each other, sighed, and started walking.

As they rounded the side of the house, Marty heard a crash from above them. He turned to see the indistinct silhouette of Elias inside Emmett's room, apparently doing his best to destroy everything in it. _At least it looks like Sarah talked him out of the fire idea._

Emmett looked too. For a moment, he looked like he really was going to break down and cry. Then he swallowed back his sob and kept walking. Marty remained however, staring as more things crashed around inside.

Emmett turned to look at him. "You'd better come on, before he sees you."

Marty slowly turned around and started following Emmett again. "Shit. I'm really sorry about this, Emmett."

They walked in silence for a moment. Then Emmett looked at him again. "Why did you defend me?"

A fresh wave of guilt crashed over Marty. "I know, I'm sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut--"

"No, that's not what I meant. Why did _you_ defend me? You barely know me. We met just today, by accident no less. Why?"

_Oh boy, there's the $64,000 question. . . ._ "I know I just met you, but I also know you're a good guy, Emmett. I mean, you fixed my radio for me, without asking for pay or anything. You deserve better than that. Hell, _anyone_ deserves better than that."

Emmett smiled a little. "Thank you." He fingered the developing bruise on his face. "Emily's only too willing to protect me from other kids, but she's more reluctant to speak up to Fa -- _Elias._ Not that I can really blame her, we were all terrified of him. He actually goes off like that a lot. This is the first time he's actually hit me, though. Generally he keeps it to verbal insults."

"I see, yeah," Marty said with a slight wince. _Great, so now I'm responsible for him getting slapped too. _"So -- ah -- what are you going to do now? Do you have any money on you?"

"No, but I don't think I need any at the moment. I know exactly where we can go."

"Where?"

Emmett grinned. "Lucy's house, of course! I'm sure she'd be willing to put us up."

A knot formed in Marty's stomach. _Why do I have a bad feeling about this? And -- _"What do you mean, we?"

"Well, I wouldn't feel right leaving you out here to fend for yourself, especially after you defended me like you did. Besides, your boss is going to need to know your updated location if he ever intends to pick you up."

Marty stared at him. "Emmett, I just got you kicked out of your house! Why do you care what happens to me?"

"You? _I _got myself kicked out of my house, Marty. I was the one who blew up and punched him."

"Yeah, but I bet that whole incident would have never happened if I hadn't been there."

"Marty, don't feel guilty about that. Elias loves to complain about scientists. It was bound to happen sometime. We'll go to Lucy's house, we'll call your inventor friend to update him on the situation, then, if you really want, you can wait for him outside . Okay?"

"Okay," Marty sighed. _I've already come this far. Not like Doc will kill me any less. And I _do_ need a place to wait for him._ "If you insist."

"That I do. Besides, I could use the company. The Okies around here have taken to preying on single travelers. Someone like me is going to need a bodyguard."

Despite himself, Marty laughed. "Okay, Emmett. Lead on."


	7. Breaking Up Is Easy To Do

Chapter 7

Friday, September 2nd, 1938

Hill Valley

6:34 P.M.

"My only B in educational history! B plus, actually, but still. . . ."

"You're lucky, my 'educational history' is filled with Bs. I only pull As in stuff like music and science -- and only because I have my inventor friend to help me with the science."

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with Bs, it just looked odd on my record. I know I'm rather different from the rest of the population. There's been days where I wanted to have a school record filled with Bs, just so I'd be more like a normal person."

Marty gave Emmett a sideways look. "It's funny. I think most people would kill to get the grades you've gotten."

"Yes, well, it comes at a very high price. Not only do most of the students hate me, a lot of the teachers do as well. I had a nasty tendency to point out the mistakes in their work. Once I even got up and corrected my math teacher in front of the entire class. I was never a favored student by any means. I think that, if they had been less fair, a lot of my teachers would have gone the Strickland route and given me lower grades." Emmett snorted. "How ironic. They would have given me what I wanted -- more normality."

Marty sighed and shook his head. "Your life sounds like one big trip down the crapper -- er, the toilet," he clarified as Emmett gave him a strange look.

"Well, it hasn't been the easiest road, I admit, but it hasn't been all bad either. I'm not always depressed or anything like that. I've got a wonderful big sister, a kindly mother, an interesting and loveable best friend, a lovely girlfriend, and a passion for science that makes me feel alive." Emmett grinned. "I love inventing. It gets me up in the morning. It's what makes my world go around."

Marty grinned back, remembering all the times he'd seen Doc in the lab, as happy as a kid on Christmas. "Yeah. I feel the same way with my music."

Emmett nodded. "It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it? I just wish Lucy was more interested in it. If I had a girlfriend who was as interested in the sciences as I am, I could die a happy man." He looked at Marty. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah -- she's not as interested in music as I am, but she's always supported me," Marty said, fondly thinking of Jennifer. _Boy, am I going to have a story to tell her when I get home._ "Too bad Lucy can't do the same for you."

"It's all right," Emmett said, waving it off. "Her heart's in the right place. You know, I met her at Christmas last year. She was flirting with me the entire time, saying how cute I looked in my clothes, how lucky I was to have such nice things for such a nice boy. . . ."

Marty bit his lip to keep from saying how materialistic it all sounded. Emmett noticed. "All right, so she's a little obsessed with class. And I know she can be rather hung up on what sort of things a person has. She's almost always complimenting me on my clothes and possessions, rather than any accomplishments. But she's dating me, and I'm basically the town outcast, so she can't be all bad."

"True," Marty said with a slight nod. "But doesn't it bug you that she likes stuff so much?"

"That's just the way she is. What's important is that she loves me."

Marty nodded again. _Yeah. He's definitely making himself ignore all the warning signs. This is _not_ going to end well._

They finally arrived at the Childs's residence. Like the Brown mansion, it was a big, ostentatious place, painted an almost glowing white. Emmett walked straight to the front door and rang the bell. Marty hung back a few paces, gawking as he took it all in. _Wow. Lucy's family must be as rich as Doc's._

A man in a crisp black suit answered the door. "Hello, Mr. Von Braun. How can I help you?"

"Hello Benjamin. Is Lucy in?"

"Yes she is. One moment and I'll fetch her." The man walked off stiffly.

"You're on a first-name basis with her father?" Marty noted.

Emmett raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't her father, that was her butler."

"Butler! You're kidding. That had to be the best-dressed guy in the house. How can you give orders to someone who's dressed better than you are?"

Emmett snickered. "It's surprisingly easy. Mother wanted to employ a butler, but Elias overruled her. He barely trusts the maids as it is."

Lucy appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hello Emmett," she said cheerfully, pointedly ignoring Marty. "I wasn't expecting to see you this late. We just finished my piano recital and our supper."

"I know it's late, Lucy, but we need some help. My father's just kicked me out of the house, and we need a place to stay for the night. Is it all right if we stay here?"

Lucy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean, your father's kicked you out?"

"There was an incident at dinner. It was the last straw for both of us, Lucy. He's disowned me."

Lucy's mouth tightened into a thin line. "So you're not rich anymore."

"No. But I don't care. Frankly, life with my father had become un-bear-able. . . ."

Emmett trailed off. Lucy was glaring at him with a look of utter contempt on her face. She stepped forward and poked him in the chest. "I _do_ care, Emmett. How stupid could you be to go and get yourself disowned! Without your money, you're _nothing_, Emmett. Do you hear me?_ Nothing._"

Marty winced. He had really hoped it wouldn't end like this. _Damn, how much more shit can Doc take?_

"Lucy, what -- what do you mean? I -- My father wanted me to give up my dream. I couldn't stay there."

"Of course you could have. You could have stayed in that lovely mansion, and inherited a nice fortune, and we'd both have been happy. But no, you had to stick with your silly _dream_. Now look at you. You're out on the street like a common tramp." She stepped back. "I don't date tramps."

There was a definite quiver in Emmett's voice now. "Lu-Lucy, I thought -- I thought you loved me," he said quietly.

There was a long moment of silence. Then Lucy threw her head back and laughed. "Love you! What a joke! How could anyone in their right mind love _you_! You're the freak of nature who's always trying to blow up his garage! Who could possibly even like you? The only reason I was with you was because of your money. I have a social standing to keep up, you know. As yours is one of the few rich families that survived the Depression, you were the only viable choice -- the only family richer than us." She smiled cruelly. "But I'll tell you a secret, Emmett -- once I had my share of the money, I was going to run off into the night with my _real_ love. Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. Rex Steenburgen is pretty rich too, and _much_ more good-looking." She mock-curtsied. "Well then, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to get off my porch. Please don't make me call the police at this late hour."

With that, Lucy slammed the door in their faces. Emmett stood there for a moment, staring blankly. "Jesus, Emmett, I don't know--" Marty began, hoping to offer some comfort.

With no warning, Emmett suddenly turned and raced off. "Emmett!" Marty yelled. "Emmett, wait!"

Emmett didn't respond, but just kept running pell-mell for the woods that bordered the neighborhood. "Emmett! Shit, Doc. . . ." Marty started to follow him, but then remembered Emmett's suitcase was still on the front porch. He went back and grabbed it.

The door suddenly opened again. "I thought I told you riff-raff to leave?" Lucy demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Go to hell, bitch," Marty replied, grabbing the suitcase.

Lucy's mouth dropped open. "You can't talk to a lady like that!" she gasped, grabbing at her blouse.

"Yeah, I can't. But you're definitely not a lady." Marty stormed down the steps. "And by the way, I really hope Rex Steenburgen is as shallow as you and ends up running away with _your_ money." Before Lucy could respond, he was off, following Emmett into the woods.


	8. Explanation Time

Chapter 8

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

4:48 P.M.

Doc breathed a sigh of relief as the flux capacitor began to flux normally again. _Finally! Now all that remains is to--_

The world shimmered again, making Doc blink. He sighed and picked up the notepad resting on the DeLorean's hood. "Another memory changed," he murmured, slightly amused at how little time it had taken him to get used to the phenomenon.

He scanned the notepad for a moment, until he located where he had left off the last time. Reading it over, it appeared that, once again, little had changed. Marty had simply followed him into the woods, as opposed to him going by himself. _Wonderful, now I don't have to go back and retrieve my luggage from Lucy's house. Marty will be happy to learn that he hasn't altered the space-time continuum as much as he probably thinks he has._ Doc set the notepad down and clapped his hands. _Well, he'll be in the woods near Riverside Drive. Time to go pick him up._

Friday, September 2nd, 1938

Hill Valley

6:41 P.M.

Marty finally caught up to Emmett, following a trail of broken branches into a large clearing. Emmett was sitting on a rock with his back to Marty, his shoulders shaking. Marty stood there for a moment, not sure what to say. "Emmett?" he finally ventured.

"Go away!" Emmett's voice was hoarse, confirming what Marty had suspected -- he was crying. "You got what you wanted from me, now go away!"

Marty set Emmett's suitcase down, feeling guilty. "Okay. I know how you feel. It's like I've caused nothing but bad luck for you ever since I showed up. I'm sorry." He turned to go, but something made him pause and look back. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Emmett turned, eyes red and puffy. "What do you care?" he choked out. "You're just like the rest of them! You only put up with me because you can use me! Go away!" He sniffed and shivered more violently.

Marty frowned. That shivering seemed different from regular crying shivering. And he had just noticed Emmett was in his shirt sleeves. "Are you cold?"

"I forgot my coat," Emmett said flatly, wiping his nose with his hand.

Compassion overwhelmed sense. Marty slipped off his oversized coat and held it out to Emmett. "Here. It should fit you."

Emmett stared at the coat for a moment. Then he looked Marty straight in the eyes. "Who are you?"

"Huh?"

"Who are you?"

"I told you. I'm Marty Jackson, inventor's--"

"That can't be right."

For one horrific moment, Marty thought he had given himself away. Then Emmett continued. "I mean, it might be _true_, but it's not _right_. You know how Holly said that she was getting this strange feeling when she looked at you? I'm getting it too. Something -- something about you is -- is saying that I should _know_ you. That we're -- _related_ somehow. But I've never seen you before in my life!" Emmett shook his head. "I don't understand it. I just don't understand it. . . ."

Marty stared at Emmett, unable to answer. What could he say? _Oh, Emmett, that's just because you're my future best friend, and I can't help but like you and want to do stuff with you._ And besides, he was rather scared by the way Emmett had described things. _That's like how the Doc in 1955 suddenly knew my name without hearing me say it. Does Doc have some sort of weird sixth sense when it comes to me?_ "Do you want the coat or not?" he asked, for lack of anything better to say.

"Yes," Emmett admitted, taking it and slipping it on. Marty sat down beside him. "I'm sorry, Marty, I shouldn't have said anything. You probably think I'm crazy now. Hell, maybe I am crazy. How many normal people would say they feel like they're related to a total stranger?"

"Anybody who's fallen in love at first sight, I bet," Marty said, trying to cheer Emmett up.

Emmett snorted. "Love at first sight. There's no such thing. I thought I had that with Lucy, and look where that got me."

Marty winced. "Sorry. But I don't think that was love, just -- infatuation mixed with desperation. Love at first sight does exist. I've been there with my own girlfriend."

"Really?"

"Really." Marty put a hand on Emmett's wrist. "I don't think you're crazy. Lonely, maybe, but not crazy."

Emmett looked at him. "Do you feel it too? That sort of -- brotherly connection? That closeness?"

Marty nodded, figuring Emmett could use the pick-me-up. "Yeah, I do."

Emmett smiled a little. "Maybe we're just a couple of eccent--"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The trees shook with the force of the triple sonic blast, sending down a spray of leaves and needles. Marty let out a deep sigh, relieved. _Finally! What took you so long, Doc?_

Emmett leapt to his feet, staring at the sky. "Great Scott! Marty, did you see that!"

"I certainly _heard_ it," Marty said, playing innocent. "Is a storm moving in? Would be the perfect ending to your crappy day." _Hey, I bet _that's_ why Doc remembered the day as overcast!_

"No! I saw something up there, over the treetops! Something silvery! It -- you're not going to believe this, but it looked like a spaceship!"

Some of the color drained from Marty's face. _Oh, shit, it's the Peabodys all over again!_ "Uh -- Emmett – there's no way it could have been a spaceship. Are you _sure_ of what you saw?" he asked, fidgeting nervously.

"Of course I'm sure! Jules Verne described spaceships in From the Earth to the Moon! Come on, it went this way!" And with that, Emmett was off.

"Emmett, wait!" Marty was forced to chase after him again. "Shit, I never knew Doc could run this fast! God damn it. . . ."

He finally caught up with Emmett just as they reached the time machine. Emmett looked like he was about to start drooling at any second. "Emmett! Don't get--"

"Marty, what -- are--"

Doc froze, halfway out of the car. Emmett froze as well, eyes fixed firmly on his older self. There was a tense silence as they stared at each other, dumbfounded.

Then, with a faint, "Great Scott," they both fainted dead away.

"Doc!" Marty raced up to the older version of his best friend and began shaking him. "Yo, Doc, wake up!"

Doc groggily opened his eyes. "Ugh -- Marty?"

"Yeah, Doc, it's me. Are you okay?"

The scientist sat up with a slight groan. "New rule," he said. "If you meet yourself while time traveling, don't look your other self in the eyes." He shook his head and glanced in the direction of his still-unconscious younger self. "Especially if you're _completely _unprepared to see him. Great Scott. . . ."

"Doc, I'm really sorry, I know I shouldn't have been with him," Marty said, gesturing wildly, eyes darting between Doc and Emmett. "It's just that -- damn it, Doc, you're my best friend, _and_ he wouldn't leave me alone--"

Doc held up a hand, silencing Marty. "I know. You're not in trouble, Marty. You wouldn't even have been put in this situation if I had preformed a few more preliminary checks of the time travel systems. You were right, Marty -- in my sleep-deprived state, I made a mistake in rewiring the flux capacitor. As a result, it was steadily losing power -- and our time travels didn't help matters. It took me a few hours to fix it, that's why I'm so late."

"I see. Still, Doc, I've probably shitted up history in a big way."

"Actually, Marty, you didn't alter the space-time continuum as much as you think."

"Really?" Marty asked, relieved.

"Nope. I've been comparing my new memories to my old ones, and they're mostly the same."

"So you've got two sets of memories now, like me?"

"Not quite." Doc got out of the car and examined his younger self, who was starting to snore slightly. "Incredible, simply incredible. . .although we'll have to do something with him shortly to keep the time-line on track. You see, Marty, since I wasn't time traveling and thus out of the normal time stream, I was directly affected by the temporal changes you made. I have no memory of performing the actions I did today without you along for the ride."

Marty looked baffled. "But -- you said--"

"I know, I know. It's a bit hard to explain. First, we have to get -- him -- over to Holly Handlen's house. That's where I remember eventually going after Lucy so unceremoniously dumped me."

Marty scowled "She was a real bitch to you, Doc."

"I agree. I knew the true nature of our relationship on some level, but I wanted so desperately to have a girlfriend that I ignored all the warning signs. My luggage is still in that clearing we were just in, right?"

"Yeah. If you don't mind me asking, what happened to her?"

"She married Rex -- they had a child, but it died of rubella at six months. Rex was killed in World War II, and Lucy lived out the rest of her days as a wealthy widow. She died at 62 from lung cancer." Doc hefted Emmett's shoulders. "Could you grab his feet?"

Marty did so, nodding as something clicked in his mind. "You know, I _thought_ I recognized the name Childs. She's got a plaque in the band room at school. Apparently in her will, she donated all her money to the school music program. I guess she mellowed out in her later years."

Doc shrugged as he began leading the way back to the clearing. "I don't think it was 'mellowing out' so much as the fact that she always loved music. Then again, I wouldn't know -- we never spoke again after today. She left a pretty raw wound on my heart."

"Yeah, I can imagine." Marty sidestepped to avoid a tree root. "So, what's the deal with your memories?"

"Well, Marty, during our conversation over the broken time talkie, I discovered that, although I remembered taking you home with me, I didn't recall your presence at the dinner where my father disowned me. I was initially determined to put the issue aside -- fixing the DeLorean was my top priority -- until I saw what looked like -- like some sort of ripple going through the air."

"You mean like that ripple our doubles described last December, during that whole other realities mess?"

"Precisely! After seeing the ripple, when I went back through my memories, there you were, playing cards with me and my friends before that fateful dinner." Doc picked up his suitcase and pointed Marty to the southwest. "However, you were still not present _at _said dinner. Apparently when a person changes the past, the future changes in stages, reflecting how long the person was there, and how much they changed."

Marty looked thoughtful for a moment. "Sorta like how my brother, my sister, and me vanished from that photograph one by one instead of all at once?"

"You've got it, Marty. There are a lot of variables at work when you change the past, and I suppose that allowing for more frequent, gradual changes helps to take all of them into account."

"But if you only remember the version with me in it, how do you know I didn't do any damage to the space-time continuum?"

"I suppose that for the earliest parts of this memory, I don't. I only noticed the ripple after I talked to you. However, considering no dinosaurs started walking down the street, I don't think you did anything too drastic. As for the rest of it -- simple. I wrote it down. Each time I caught sight of another ripple, I'd consult my notebook and compare the old memory to the new one."

"Wouldn't your writing change, though?"

"I was a little worried about that too, but no, it didn't. I'm not exactly sure why yet, though." Doc looked thoughtful. "Did your photograph of you, Dave, and Linda ever change?"

"No, actually. It looks the same as it did in the old reality." Marty frowned. "Weird. I mean, it was taken when we were on a vacation, but still. . . ."

"It's something that warrants further study. I'll look into it once we fix things here."

Marty nodded. "So your dad was going to throw you out whether I was here or not, huh?"

"Yup. With or without your presence, I was still going to punch him. And Lucy was still going to cruelly dump me, and I was still going to run into the woods for a good cry." Doc shifted more of Emmett's weight into Marty's arms. "I have to admit, it was kind of nice to have a friend with me this time around." He gave Marty a severe look. "Don't go using that as carte blanche to interact with people in other time periods, though. My rule still stands."

"Oh, hell no, Doc, don't worry. I put myself through hell while I was with -- him. It's just -- you're my best friend, Doc, no matter what age you are."

Doc smiled again. "I know. And I admit, my younger self was rather pushy." He looked thoughtful. "On that note, my 1955 self is probably going to recognize your younger self now. Let's hope that I have enough sense to keep my mouth shut about this visit."

"Don't you know yet? I mean, wouldn't you remember the new 1955 visit?"

"Great Scott, that never occurred to me. I was so concerned with how this current visit would affect the space-time continuum. . . ." He concentrated for a second. "It appears that I made a slight mention of the incident after you showed me the time machine -- since you didn't pick up on it, I dropped it. Whew."

"Yeah." Marty grunted as they maneuvered around a tree. "Hey, Doc? About the whole memory thing -- do you think my parents saw it coming?"

"It's possible. But unlike myself, who has experience in time travel matters, they probably wouldn't even remember seeing it after the new memories were in place. And if you're worried about a pain response similar to the one you experienced while being erased from existence, that's unlikely as well. The ripples never caused me any pain anyway."

"That's good. I wouldn't want Dave or Linda to have to go through what I did at the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance." Marty frowned, wondering if he should ask Doc something that had been bothering him. "Hey Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Speaking of siblings -- whatever happened to Jack?"

Doc went stiff and stopped walking, forcing Marty to stop short. "He's probably somewhere in California. I don't know where exactly." He looked Marty straight in the eye. "I know it seems odd that I never told you about him, but Jack -- Jack--" He stopped and closed his eyes. "I hate him."

Marty winced. "Sorry. He take after Elias?"

"You could say that. All that matters to me is that he's out of my life. You'll never meet him, luckily. He's horrible." Doc sighed. "I don't like talking about him."

"Okay, Doc. I was just wondering. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's all right, Marty. I can't blame you for being curious. All you have to know is that he was an asshole on par with my father." Doc grunted loudly. "Great Scott, I never thought an unconscious 17-year-old boy could be this heavy! Especially when he's -- me."

"Yeah, my arms are starting to ache," Marty admitted. "How much farther to Holly's place?"

"Not too much farther, I don't think. At least, I didn't remember walking for too long." They took a quick breather. "Remind me to lose some weight."

Marty smirked. "I'm glad we're taking him to Holly's. You were right, Doc, she really is a great gal."

"I knew you would like her. I don't think I would have gotten through this time without her. She and her family let me stay at her house for a few months, until I was able to find my own place." Doc sighed in relief as they finally emerged back onto the street, next to a little wooden house. "Finally. Set him down here."

They gently dropped Emmett onto the front step. Emmett turned his head and groaned loudly. "Appears that he's coming to," Doc said, setting the suitcase down next to him. "We'd best get back to our own time."

"You'll be all right here?"

"Yes, this will set the space-time continuum back on track. Come on." Doc started back into the woods. With one last glance at Emmett, Marty followed.

Friday, September 2nd

6:52 P.M.

_Ugh. . . ._

Emmett groggily opened his eyes. He could feel cold stone under his back, and his view of the sky was unblocked. _What happened?_ he thought, slowly sitting up and putting a hand to his head. _Where am I?_

He looked around, trying to gauge his surroundings. He was sitting on the front step of the Handlen house, his luggage by his side. _How in the name of Sir Isaac H. Newton did I get here? _he wondered, baffled. _Did Holly somehow manage to teleport me here? And how did my luggage get here? The last thing I remember is being in the woods with Marty, and that spaceship streaking overhead -- and I chased after it, saw it land -- and I saw --_

_I saw myself._

Emmett blinked and shook his head rapidly. _No, that's not right. There's no way I could have seen myself. It's outside the range of rational thought. I must have dreamed that part. I must have -- tripped, or something, and knocked myself out. And I bet Marty took me here when he couldn't revive me!_ He looked around, puzzled. _So where's Marty now? And why didn't he take his coat back?_

Emmett snapped his fingers. _I bet that inventor friend of his finally showed up while Marty was finding his way here. Ten bucks says he convinced Marty to leave me here and whisked him away. I guess Marty just forgot his coat._ He sighed and fingered a piece of the material. _Well -- goodbye, Marty. It was nice knowing you. _He frowned. _Although this coat of yours kind of itches. . . ._

He heard the door open behind him and got quickly to his feet. Holly was standing there, looking puzzled. "Oh, hi Emmett. What are you doing here?"

Something about seeing his only real friend in the world made Emmett tear up again. "Holly, I -- I've been disowned. Father and I had one last row about my obsession with science, and he kicked me out. And Lucy's dumped me on top of that. Can -- Can I stay here with you for a little while? Please?"

Holly wrapped him in a hug. "Of course, Emmett. Of course."


	9. Fate's Jest

Chapter 9

Sunday, April 6th, 1986

Hill Valley

5:02 P.M.

Marty pulled back up to his house, sighing in relief. _Home sweet home. It's good to be back._ He parked in the driveway, locked up the truck, and headed inside. "Hey guys? I'm home."

"Hi son," George said. He was sitting in the living room, watching an episode of "The Outer Limits." "Have a good time over at Doc's?"

"Yeah -- we were testing a pair of walkie-talkies he'd improved to have better range and reception. I accidentally smashed up one of the sets, though, so tomorrow after school I'm going to go back and help him fix it."

"I see." George glanced over at Marty, then frowned and turned around. "Marty, where's your jacket?"

"My jacket?"

"Grandpa Arthur's jacket. Where is it?"

Marty blinked. "Oh, yeah, I--"

Suddenly, it hit him. Marty's eyes went wide with horror. "Holy shit! I left it with Doc!" He spun around and ran out the front door.

George stared after him. ". . . . I'm not going to kill you for forgetting it. . . ."

Marty arrived back at Doc's garage just a few minutes later, having sped through the traffic to get back. He raced in the front door, trying not to panic too much. "Doc! Doc, we gotta go back to 1938, I forgot--"

Doc was waiting for him, already holding out the coat in question. Marty blushed and took it. "Sorry," he said, looking at his feet. "Next time, I'll remember what the hell I need to take back with me." He shrugged the coat back on. "I guess this means I'm out of the DeLorean's lock system."

Doc smiled reassuringly. "No you aren't. You're a responsible kid at heart, Marty, and you're still relatively new to time travel. I can forgive you one moment of forgetfulness. Besides, I didn't catch that mistake myself, and I should have. The coat just blended into the background."

"Yeah, I know. It completely slipped my mind when you came to pick me up." Marty looked at Doc's wardrobe. "So you've had it for, what, 48 years?"

"Roughly so, yes. My younger self didn't try to return it to you after I discovered you didn't recollect the trip. I've worn it a few times, but finally I just stuck it in the closet and waited for you to claim it. Sorry if it smells a little musty."

"No problem, it's been in our closet since Grandpa Arthur died." Marty frowned suddenly. "Hey, Doc? Couldn't we just go back and get the coat from your younger self?"

"It's possible, but I'd advise against it actually. It's too risky for me personally. We had two close calls too many, what with my voice on the walkie-talkie and my younger self actually seeing me and the DeLorean. We're very lucky he considered it all a dream. And I know that my younger self and Holly would drag you off to further discuss those weird feelings they were getting about you." He frowned at Marty. "That's odd, how they could both sense your future connection to me."

"I know -- I wasn't trying to be obvious about it or anything," Marty frowned back. "Then again, I wasn't exactly trying to hide it either. I wasn't thinking about it at all, for the most part."

"Perhaps they were just picking up on something overly familiar in your behavior," Doc shrugged. "The point is, it's probably best in this case to let things stand. No reason to give my and Holly's deductive skills a test."

"Yeah." Marty suddenly smacked his head. "Jesus, it was stupid to give the coat to you anyway! Not just because of the space-time continuum either. We had the lining replaced in 1983. The new stuff is synthetic, something called acetate."

"So?"

"So? Doc, you're allergic to synthetics! You get rashes! Your younger self even mentioned it to me!"

"Not from acetate," Doc said, puzzled. "I have had reactions to other types of synthetics, but never from ace--"

Doc paused as understanding dawned on his face. "Great Scott, that must be it. . . ."

"What is it?" Marty asked, worried.

"Marty -- I think that, by wearing the coat while I was younger, I managed to acclimate myself to the fabric and thus alter my allergies somehow. I do remember getting mild, itchy rashes at first whenever I handled the lining -- is that what happened to me originally?" Marty nodded. "But as I handled the jacket more, the rashes slowly lessened and finally went away completely. I must have desensitized my skin to whatever it was in the acetate that caused the rashes."

For a moment, Doc and Marty just looked at each other. Then Doc burst out laughing. "I should strand you in the past more often! You have a knack for changing the future for the better!"

"Thanks, but no thanks," Marty said, relaxing in relief. "I'm just glad everything turned out for the best."

"Me too. This whole episode shows how dangerous time traveling can be. Good thing I made all those improvements now, huh?"

"Yeah, I know. I guess I'd better get back home -- I think I kinda freaked Dad out by rushing out like that. I'll be back tomorrow to help fix the time talkie." Marty smirked at Doc. "After _this_ trip, I'll take all the security I can get."

The End


End file.
